


Venenum

by madelinecookie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinecookie/pseuds/madelinecookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was always Harry, even before The-Boy-Who-Lived lived at all, it had always been him. Severus Snape knows he is bound to Harry Potter, but he will fight it at all costs. Even if it kills him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1978

**Author's Note:**

> Here is my first attempt at any form of fan-fiction, so please forgive my missteps and mistakes. The rating is for later chapters, so please stay tuned.  
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time. I hope to receive feedback to better improve as I go on. I hope you enjoy my love story.

With trembling hands Severus Snape tipped the glass vial above the bubbling cauldron, the fresh virgin blood splashing into the black potion. Quickly, as to ensure the success of the potion, the young man began stirring counter clockwise. His long black hair, heavy with sweat, was matted to his head and the whites of his eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. The ever present thrum of his angry heart filled his ears as his body shook. There was no room for error. There would not be a second chance. 

It had been almost three months since he had finished his schooling at Hogwarts. Almost three months since he had last seen Lily Evans and her sorry-excuse for a boyfriend, James Potter. The very thought of the couple and their disgusting friends made Snape’s blood boil. He had always been angry, always the boy who sat alone, brooding over a book and cursing anyone who dared cross him, but now there was a hatred that had begun to devour him. The hate was like a cancer that consumed him and shut down his system until all that was left was a raging and hateful monster. No longer was there a boy nor a man, just a vessel that propelled him forward down a dark path.

It had been three months since he had vowed allegiance to the Dark Lord and took the Dark Mark. 

_“Severus, my dear boy, I must say I’m not that surprised you finally came to your senses and joined ranks with me.”_

_Snape’s head was bowed and his trousers were wet from the damp grass he was kneeling in. The Dark Lord stood before him, a cold hand resting firmly on his shoulder. His heart was pounding wildly and he couldn’t remember a time where he felt more powerful than he did in that moment. All the anger and hate he had been harboring now had a purpose and he was buzzing with adrenaline._

_“Look at me, Snape,” Voldemort said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. The young man lifted his head, his hair falling away revealing his pale, gaunt features._

_“Where does your allegiance lie, Severus?”_

_“With you, my Lord.” Snape answered easily._

_“Are you trustworthy, boy?” Voldemort pressed, his already firm hand becoming impossibly tighter._

_“Yes, master,” he answered dutifully. There was a thrill of fear running through him. He was not as foolish to think that the Dark Lord would be forgiving of any mistakes._

_“I believe you,” the older man said and Severus released a small breath he had been holding._

_“However, I need you to prove yourself to me, just as I have asked all those who have joined me to do.”_

_“Yes, anything you ask, master,” Snape said, his voice tinted with a note of desperation._

_“So eager,” Voldemort laughed, his smile revealing gleaming white teeth that reminded Snape of razors. The whisper of fear was becoming more pressing and the Dark Lord’s words sent pangs of panic down his spine. What would he have to do to prove himself loyal to his new master? He knew that there was no turning back. It was either rise to the challenge or die._

_With a flick of his wrist Voldemort summoned a large, aged book. Snape eyed is curiously and then a small gasp escaped past his thin, pale lips._

_“Is that…?”_

_“Yes, it is. Well done, Severus,” his master said with an approving nod of his head. The tomb in his hands was as old as magic itself. It was a book filled with ancient, forgotten, dark potions. As far as Snape had known it was only a myth as no one living had ever seen it and there were almost no documented accounts of it being in anyone’s possession. The book was simply titled Venenum and it held the darkest of all the world’s potions. Only a true dark wizard who was a master of potions could brew successfully any of the potions in the tomb._

_Snape’s curiosity was overwhelming and he felt his fingers twitch in anticipation. Any potions master would be desperate to get a glimpse of the book and Snape was being treated with the possibility to actually brew from the book._

_“It was quite difficult to find this book, Severus. I have had it in my possession for a while now and have yet to find a wizard capable enough – powerful enough – to brew from Venenum. However, I think my waiting has come to an end.”_

_The Dark Lord’s words sent both gratitude and fear sprinting through his veins. Beads of sweat had formed on Snape’s brow and he forced his eyes to remain unflinching on his master’s face._

_“I am tasking you with something very important, Severus,” Voldemort said quietly. He reached out his hand, offering Snape to take the book from him. With steady movements, trying to mask his eagerness, Snape gingerly took the tomb. He held it tenderly, savoring the weight and the smell of decaying paper. He felt magic seeping through the cover and into his palms. He wondered silently if his master had also felt the surge of the old, dark magic._

_“I want you to brew these potions and report back to me with your results. I am no fool to think that these potions will be simple and so I am going to graciously give you time. In exactly three months I want you to have brewed and bottled every potion, meticulously detailing the process. Do you think that you can do that?”_

_Snape was nodding his head wildly, his enthusiasm to intense to hide any longer. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. For not the first time Snape felt reassurance of his decision to take the mark._

_“Also, you must administer these potions.”_

_Snape’s heart stopped. He knew that the vast majority of the potions in Vennenum were intended for torture and more often than not they were lethal. There were so many potions and suddenly the book’s weight in his hands seemed overpowering. He knew he was capable of killing, he wouldn’t have been able to become a Death Eater otherwise, but the blood on his hands was searing him before he ever lifted his wand._

_“Can you do that, Severusssss?”_

_Voldemort hissed out his name and Snape knew he had no choice. As quickly as he had been reassured of his Death Eater status, he was silently wondering if maybe he still had a sliver of good left in him._

_Never mind that now. Once he was finished, he would be empty._

_“Yes, master.”_

He remembered the conversation clearly and his features set into a deep scowl. The inky, black potion was giving off the faint smell of burnt wood and he knew it was almost complete. This was the final potion, the last one he had brewed from Venenum and the most complicated. 

It was also, in some ways, the most dangerous. 

At least, dangerous for Severus Snape. 

Everyone was a fool to think that poor Snivellus Snape was deeply and disturbingly in love with Lily Evans. The thought alone almost made him laugh. Almost. It was true that he had cared for the young girl and why shouldn’t he? They had been the best of friends. What people didn’t understand was that Snape’s interests were elsewhere and Lily simply wasn’t his type. 

James Potter on the other hand was. 

He had pinned after James, only confiding in Lily the extent of his attraction for the arrogant Gryffindor boy. She had been sweet then, encouraging him, guiding him when he felt confused or lost, but it had all fallen apart and to Snape it felt like his world had collapsed in on itself. 

Potter’s mistreatment of Snape left a particularly bad taste in his mouth and sooner then he thought possible he no longer harbored lustful feelings for him. It was when James and Lily began dating and ultimately when he lost his friendship with Lily, that Snape began to truly feel hate. He felt jealous of James for taking away Lily and jealous of Lily for dating James. It was a downward spiral and he hated them. 

Or at least he pretended too. 

Snape felt sure that James and Lily wouldn’t stay together, but they had to his horror. Worse than that Snape felt robbed. James should have been his. Snape had wanted him first, not Lily. The anger over not having him or his best friend was the last straw and when the opportunity arose Snape willingly and enthusiastically joined Voldemort. He knew he would always wonder if James had been meant for him and things had somehow got crossed and tangled, ruining things, but Snape had resigned himself to a life of never knowing the truth. 

Until now. 

Snape shook his head and reached for the last and final ingredient. Carefully, he dropped in a single aster flower, its stem wrapped with several strands of his hair, and the delicate purple petals spotted with his blood. As soon as the flower made contact with the potion there was a hiss and the mixture suddenly took on a metallic color. 

With measured movements Snape ladled some of the potion into a goblet and eyed it carefully. He knew he had been successful and the potion was perfect. Clasping the cup carefully in two hands he walked to window and looked out at the sky. His body was heavy from sleeplessness and his limbs ached. He needed rest and he knew that with the completion of the Venenum he would be given the reward of time to heal. Although he was careful with his thinking and was almost master at avoiding any unpleasant thoughts, his tiredness out did him and he felt himself choke up. He had killed so many innocent people and although he felt emptier then he ever had before, there was a profound pain to the hollowness inside. 

The potion in his hand was not to be administered to anyone else, but instead he had decided to test it on himself. He knew that if the potion was brewed wrong it would mean a slow and painful death, but then again if it was successful it would also likely result in immeasurable pain. 

But he needed to know. 

Who was his soulmate? He hated himself for his conflicted emotions. Part of him hoped there would be no one, that he would find solace in confirmed loneliness, but the other part of him, the more treacherous side, hoped that maybe there was someone. Maybe there was hope. Most importantly, no matter the answer, he could once and for all leave Lily Evans and James Potter in the past. If he survived and it was revealed to him that he had no soulmate it would be easy to relay this to the Dark Lord, but if it was to be that he did have a soulmate he knew he could never tell Voldemort. That kind of knowledge would put himself and his soulmate in danger. He knew that it wasn’t just the potion that could kill him, but he had chosen not to dwell on that. 

Without another thought, Snape brought the goblet to his mouth and threw back the liquid. Instantaneously, a searing pain shot through his entire body. It was as though someone had lit fire to his blood and his organs and he was burning alive from the inside out. 

He collapsed to his knees and clutched his chest in pain and his breathing became more and more erratic. There was not a chance to regret anything and Snape tried not to fight the pain. Suddenly, the intense pain evaporated and instead his chest ached in the familiar way it does when someone has broken your heart completely. His vision blurred and instead was replaced with hundreds of unfamiliar flashes that seemed like memories, but he knew they were not. Quickly he realized they were moments that hadn’t happened yet. He was seeing his soulmate for the first time, seeing his other half’s entire life and even witnessing the moment they would meet. 

Tears streaked down his face and he felt himself sobbing through the pain. There was unexplainable relief and love and confusion that comforted and frightened Snape. He was in awe and horrified, but he couldn’t stop his unrelenting tears. And suddenly it all stopped, the pain and the relief and instead he was just returned to his exhausted state. There were still tears running down his face and he felt himself begin to fall down a dark hole. He recognized he was about to pass out and as his body began slumping forward onto the ground, the last thing he thought materialized on his tongue. 

“Harry Potter.”


	2. September 1, 1991

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

Dawn was breaking and the last bit of summer was disappearing with the moon. It was the morning of September 1st and Severus Snape was pacing the corridors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Soon the students would be returning from their summer holiday and a new school year would begin. Aside from Snape’s general dislike of children, he was normally impartial, almost bordering on ambivalent, but this year was different. 

This year brought Harry Potter. 

It wasn’t unusual to find Snape wandering the corridors and school grounds, but there was an edge to his step and a look of pure dread he was unable to hide. For weeks he had been unable to sleep, his nights either spent restlessly trying to quiet his mind or waking periodically from vivid dreams about one particular eleven-year-old boy. 

He felt sick to his stomach constantly, his insides twisted and knotted. No matter what potion he took to alleviate the anxiety he still managed to worry himself to tears. The weakness he felt, the sense of his life quickly speeding down a road that he had no control over, was overwhelming and unbearable. Severus Snape was a man of stone, not a man of emotion, so the near constant stream of panicked, distressed thoughts weighed on him. In the days leading up to the arrival of the students, he had begun to feel the strain of that weight and his resolve was cracking. 

It wasn’t as though he didn’t have time to prepare. He had known about Harry Potter before the boy was even born, but still it felt as though this day arrived much quicker then he could ever have thought. 

After he had lost consciousness upon taking one of the forbidden Venenum potions, Snape woke with his face pressed into the cold stone floor. He felt dazed and disoriented, as though his life had been pushed off course and he was floating in uncertain territory. Over and over again he heard the name in his head.

_Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Harry Potter._

The name was accompanied by the image of a young boy who was irrefutably the spawn of Lily and James Potter. There was no denying the dark tousled hair and piercing green eyes. He had his father’s handsome features and his mother’s soft, kind smile. 

Almost immediately upon waking Snape was violently ill all over himself and the floor. 

For days, even after he had gone crawling to the Dark Lord, he was consumed with the image of the boy and the knowledge that he was bound to a child. A child that hadn’t even been born yet. He fought with himself constantly, trying desperately to conjure disgust, anger, even maybe self-loathing, but no matter how hard he tried there was a deep and profound sense of belonging and connection that refused to be quieted. He seriously considered having a fellow Death Eater obliviate him, but the mere thought of forgetting the boy was almost too painful to imagine.

Eventually, he resigned himself to stowing away Harry Potter to the back of his mind. Snape instead dedicated himself to the Dark Lord and mastering his abilities in both potions, but also deceit. Although he was loyal to Voldemort, he knew that he needed to be one step ahead to ensure protection of his body and mind. He had long given up the notion of having a soul. 

Even when Harry James Potter was born on July 31, 1980, Snape refused to acknowledge it. He wouldn’t discuss the birth, he wouldn’t think about it, and he sure as hell wouldn’t put himself in a position where he might accidently cross paths with the Potters. He also very carefully avoided thinking on the fact that at the exact moment Harry Potter had been born Snape was overcome with emotion, his heart pounded in his chest wildly and he felt his magic surge through his entire body more powerfully then he could ever remember. 

But he wasn’t going to think about that. 

Until the prophecy.

Despite the many years past since that night he heard of Lord Voldemort’s plans to kill the Potters and their infant son, Severus Snape still trembled at the memory. He was a man consumed by rage and fear. It was instinctual, as though it was his life and his family that had been threatened. It felt like he was a man possessed, a man completely desperate – a man unhinged. 

Severus had always prided himself on his loyalty and his dedication, but he could not – would not – stand next to a man who was determined to murder the one person to whom Snape was intricately connected to. He did the only thing he could think of that would save the Potters. 

He sought out Albus Dumbledore, pledging his allegiance to the Light and agreeing to give over his life, the very essence of who he was, to save the boy and his parents. 

But something’s just aren’t meant to be. 

It was Snape who arrived first in Godric’s Hollow that night, not Hagrid. He had been the one, with tears streaking down his face, to enter the deathly quiet, still home. It was him who had slowly climbed the stairs, carefully stepping over the lifeless body of James Potter whose eyes stared unseeing up at him. Snape was the one who heard the whimpering and crying of an infant Harry Potter as he looked down at that crumpled body of his mother. It had been him who held Lily in his arms for a moment, kissed her forehead tenderly, silently begged for forgiveness and whispered into her deaf ears, “I promise you I will care for him, I will watch over him, I will protect him and I will love him. Always.” 

And it was Severus Snape who lifted Harry Potter from his crib, enveloping the child in his warm, dark robes, muttering a healing spell to ease the pain from the lightning bolt scar on the child’s forehead and quietly soothed him to sleep. 

From that moment on he watched from afar, protecting and caring, even though he was just a shadow. Snape knew he could not intervene when those blasted Dursley’s mistreated young Harry Potter because that would not do well for the boy or for him. He knew that if he were to continue his façade of a man etched from marble, and he usually felt he was cold as stone, he would have to remain loyal to no one but himself and Albus Dumbledore. He’d be damned if he allowed his feelings and the knowledge of the future to cloud his judgment.

He did all he could for Dumbledore, honoring his vow to the old wizard. It seemed to everyone that the Dark Lord had been defeated, and although both Albus and Snape knew better, there came a time of relative peace. He began teaching as the potions master at Hogwarts and he kept the knowledge of Harry Potter hidden from anyone and everyone – including himself. 

Now, however, he could not ignore it anymore. 

As Snape swept down the stairs, delving deeper and deeper into the bowels of the castle, he was grappling with many emotions. He was twisted and frightened, but he was ready. It was time that he faced the boy to prove to himself that he was capable of staying away. That he could protect the boy without loving the boy. 

He needed to sleep, but that wasn’t going to happen. Instead, he locked himself away in his lab, deciding that a new batch of Dreamless Sleep would be useful this term for the infirmary. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Of course, he would be sorted into Gryffindor, that was unsurprising and truthfully it came as a relief to Snape that he wouldn’t have to be in forced proximity to the child. 

What had also been relieving was that the moment that he came face to face with Harry Potter there was no attraction. Snape had been silently praying that his connection to the boy wouldn’t result in a new pedophilic side of him and was happy to report that there were no such feelings. 

However, instead of attraction, there was a deep sense of responsibility and obligation to the boy. He had already sold his soul away to Dumbledore in the name of protecting Harry, but it ran much deeper than that. Severus knew that he was, however unwilling, dedicated to Potter. 

“S-S-Severus, I-I-I might n-need your a-assistance with a f-f-few lessons th-this term…”

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Quirrell, was babbling away, stuttering and spitting all over Snape. He really had tried in the beginning to listen, but he didn’t trust the new professor and took everything he said with a grain of salt. There was something suspicious about the man, but he had plenty of time to figure that out. For the time being, in that exact moment, he was being held to the ground not by gravity, but instead by the scorching gaze of one Harry Potter. 

Their eyes had met, and it had only been a moment, but something tugged inside Snape. It was as though they were tethered together by some invisible rope, each one testing it out, giving it a tug to see not only it’s strength, but it’s existence. 

The moment was broken almost instantly when Potter threw his hand to his forehead. His face twisted in pain and Snape had to grab the edge of the high table with considerable force to stop himself from running over to the boy. However, whatever pain Harry felt was fleeting because in another instant he seemed fine. 

Snape attempted to return his attention back to Professor Quirrell, but his heart was hammering in his ears. He felt like the walls were closing in on him and his tightly buttoned robes were suffocating him. Quickly, he stood and disappeared from the Great Hall, practically sprinting to the dungeons. 

When he reached his private rooms he flung off his robes and paced madly. It was apparent that Harry’s presence would be far more disturbing then Snape anticipated. The connection was there despite Potter’s obliviousness and his age. Severus had known that he would need to be detached, maybe even unkind, but now he saw that he needed to take more drastic measures. 

As Snape stared unseeing into the dark of his rooms he thought about the next day’s potions lesson and how today was only the first day of at least seven more years with Potter. His panic and fear was slowly turning into anger and he felt a familiar whisper of hate. It been a while since he had mustered enough emotion to elicit hateful thoughts, but in that moment of pure vulnerability, it became obvious to Snape what he had to do. 

He would make himself hate Potter and in turn would force Potter to hate him. 

He wouldn’t give in. 

He wouldn’t stop protecting the boy, but he wouldn’t love him either.


	3. June 5, 1992

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

Harry was brave, that was for sure. Lily and James had also been brave and courageous. It appeared that their son had been given the same gene. However, blindly following your bravery into danger is just as stupid as being cowardly. Snape may never know why the Golden Trio decided that they were to get past Fluffy and go through the trap door on the third corridor. What he did know was that Harry’s first year, albeit fairly quiet, had resulted in many sleepless nights for himself. 

As potions master of the school it was part of Snape’s duties to provide healing potions and other concoctions for Madam Pomfrey, the school midwitch. On this particular day, while Harry Potter lie unconscious in the infirmary, Snape was brewing an extra batch of potions. He argued with himself that it was morbid curiosity to see the boy, but his heart beat to a different drum. It wasn’t about just seeing the boy’s condition, but it was also the pressing necessity to look with his own eyes and determine his state of wellbeing. It was his obligation after all.

After stoppering the last vials, Snape stowed away the potions in his robes and began the walk from the dungeons to the hospital wing. There were students scattered about, most of them studying for their end of the year exams, but some had their heads bowed together, excited whispers coming from their huddle. They were likely discussing the events of last night when Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger broke every single school rule and stopped Professor Quirrell from getting the philosopher’s stone. Snape scowled to himself and for a moment debated taking away house points, but he restrained himself. How juvenile the students and some of the staff were? The boy could have been killed and yet everyone was cheery and awed. 

Snape had decided they had survived purely on luck and, as hard as it was to admit, Miss. Granger’s incredible cleverness and quick thinking. 

Pushing the infirmary door open Snape saw a flustered Madam Promfrey darting around the room, her face flushed and her lips set in a hard line. There was the distinct sound of two people throwing up and upon further inspection Snape realized that two students sitting side by side from each other were both vomiting violently. 

“Severus! Can you believe it? One of them was so anxious about exams he made himself sick while his friend here apparently suffers from sympathy sickness.” Pomfrey said hurriedly. “Did you bring more potions?” 

“Yes, Poppy,” Snape answered pulling the vials from his pockets. “Where shall I put them?” 

“Oh, just set them on my desk over there,” the witch answered pointing a finger to an old wooden desk in the corner of the room. Snape nodded his head and did as he was told, but his eyes kept flickering over the room. Where was Potter? 

“I was wondering, Poppy,” Snape said, trying to hide his concern. “How is Mister Potter?” 

For a moment Poppy just looked at him confused. It was no secret to anyone, student, faculty, and staff, that Severus Snape hated Gryffindor’s – specifically those with the last name Potter. 

“He is doing well, still unconscious, but healing well.” 

“Would you mind if I checked in on the boy? Dumbledore told me about some of the effects of the dark magic Potter came in contact with and I’d really like to document the boy’s reaction,” Severus lied. He schooled his features and held the bored, drawl he always spoke in, but it was difficult. He was far too eager. 

“No, no, of course not,” the midwitch said with a nod. “He’s in the last bed at the end of the room.” 

With a steady, confident stride, Snape walked the short distance to the end of the room. When he reached the curtain that was separating Harry from him, he paused and took a shuddering breath. It would be the first time since the boy’s parents died that he would be alone with him. For some reason that knowledge made Snape anxious. 

Slowly, he pulled away the curtain and stepped inside the small area that had been carved out for Potter. The boy was laying on his back, his features relaxed, mouth slightly open as his body healed itself. Snape stood at the foot of the bed and gripped the frame tightly. He tried to breathe evenly, but his was overcome with emotion. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how worried he truly had been. 

A few traitorous tears slipped down his face and he swallowed thickly. With careful steps he came around and stood beside the boy. Slowly he went to his knees, almost the same height as the sleeping form and inspected the boy more closely. He could see that Harry was okay and there would be no lasting effects. 

Before he realized what he was doing he found that one of his large, cool hands had placed itself over one of Harry’s smaller, warm hands. He looked down at the union in horror, but made no movement to withdraw from the tender touch. There was a tingle against his fingertips and palms as the bond was realized through physical touch. He held on as long as he dared for fear that the connection would somehow wake Harry. 

After what seemed like an eternity, he rose and left quickly. 

For the rest of the day he felt the phantom weight of Harry’s hand in his. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_“Tell me Snape, tell me right now!”_

_Harry’s face was pale, like all the blood had drained from his beautiful features. There were tears glistening in his captivating eyes and Severus was overcome with emotions. The Harry in front of him was older, still a young man, but older and more mature. Snape’s entire body – his very soul, if indeed he had one – was reaching out to Harry._

_“I can’t, please just trust me,” Snape pleaded, his voice quivering._

_“No, I need to know. I can’t leave here until I know. Do you love me?” Harry yelled taking a step closer towards his professor. Snape moved to back away but was met with the dungeon wall against back._

_“Harry…”_

_“I love you, isn’t that enough?”_

_At Harry’s words the room was washed away and Snape found himself suddenly laying on his back, Harry Potter between his legs. They were naked and there was a fire now in Harry’s eyes. No longer was he pale, but flushed and lips beautifully bruised from being kissed hard._

_“Please, please, please.”_

_For a moment Severus didn’t realize it was him who was chanting the plea, begging Harry to touch him, to love him. He was overwhelmed with desire and need. All he wanted was to be wrapped around Harry so tightly they could never be unwoven and pulled apart. Snape hadn’t known it was possible to experience the level of devotion he was feeling in that moment._

_“Will you make love to me Severus?” Dream Harry asked, his eyes blazing._

_“Yes, yes of course. Please come here, Harry,” Snape cried reaching out his arms for the younger man._

_“But will you love me as well, Severus?”_

_Snape’s heart tightened and he thought he would cry._

_“I’ve always loved you, I always will,” the man said desperately._

_“Then why are you hurting me?”_

“Harry!” 

Snape jumped, sitting straight up in bed. His hair was soaked with sweat and he felt the perspiration dripping down his chest and back. His breaths were coming out in harsh gasps and he felt tears stinging his eyes. This was the first dream he had where Harry was older and they were being intimate. He felt his painfully hard erection and cursed to himself loudly. The entire room felt stuffy and he was hit over and over again with waves of conflicting emotions. 

The students had left on the train back to London a few days prior and Severus had found himself surprisingly okay with the absence of Harry, almost relieved if he were to be honest. Nothing could have prepared him for this dream and although he felt disgusted with himself, he could not get the image of the older naked Harry from his mind. 

Deciding to give in, he slumped back against his pillows and pulled at his erection. It only took a few minutes before he was thrusting hard into his hand and moaning loudly. 

“Harry, harry, harry, harry,” he called, like a mantra that cleansed his mind and body, and with one final hard push he spilled his seed all over his hand and chest. It was, to date, the best orgasm he’d ever had. 

After cleaning himself up quickly he wondered silently if maybe he needed to get away for a little while. Although he had a lot of work to do for Albus, he felt fragile and ready to break. He needed to be away from thoughts of the boy. Maybe he would take a trip somewhere? 

Then he shook his head and curled back under his covers suddenly cold and shivering. He knew he couldn’t leave because he would never rest if he didn’t have a watchful eye on Potter. 

Falling into a restless sleep he was haunted by piercing green eyes, bruised lips, and a young man’s voice whispering in his ear, _“I love you, isn’t that enough?”_


	4. May 30, 1993

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

Severus Snape felt old and worn despite being a considerably young wizard of only 33. 

Would every single school year of Harry Potter’s life evolve into an almost catastrophe? How was it even possible that one twelve-year-old boy could find himself in so much trouble? To be fair, and this was stretching it, Harry Potter was the _chosen one_ , whatever the hell that meant. 

At the very moment that Snape was sitting in an armchair in his chambers, nursing a tumbler of Firewhiskey, and lamenting of another year spent in constant worry, Harry was somewhere in the castle retelling the tale of his time spent in the Chamber of Secrets. The poor Weasley girl was probably scarred for life and even though Snape was never particularly keen on the redheaded clan, he would never wish that kind of turmoil on anyone. 

Yes, Harry Potter was a hero indeed. 

However, that didn’t bode well with the potions master. He was exhausted and quite honestly a bit bitter. His near constant berating of Potter had successfully won him the unoriginal titles of the Greasy Git and Bat of the Dungeons (he found that one particularly amusing), but nonetheless it has nothing to damper his feelings towards the boy. If anything, the space he had forced between them only seemed to spur his emotions on. Despite his efforts he still had one too many sleepless nights due to Harry. 

He felt weak.

And frustrated. 

And disgusted. 

But mostly he felt love and warmth and fondness and the deep, seemingly unwavering devotion. 

It was all too much really. 

As if to make matters even worse, which Snape hadn’t thought could happen, he was still being visited at night by the provocative and undeniably delectable Dream Harry. It was almost a year since his first dream and they seemed to grow more and more vivid every night. There were times when the dreams held a warm quality to them, a bit fuzzy around the edges, but comfortable and inviting. It was in these dreams that he found himself curled on a couch reading with Harry’s head in his lap or rubbing the young man’s sore muscles, relaxing him into his touch. Sometimes it was just as simple as a stroll through the grounds, hand in hand, comfortable silence or even more inviting conversation. 

The other dreams, however, were much more intense. He hadn’t known there were so many different ways to fuck someone, but his mind seemed to have stored these up without him knowing. There were times when he was thrusting into Harry up again a wall or taking him on the floor. They fucked in the shower and on the sink. They drove together wildly on his work bend and on his armchair. It seemed like they were on some sort of mission to christen every square inch of Snape’s corridors. 

He wasn’t complaining mind you. 

The dreams fueled a sort of desire that was altogether otherworldly. He never knew that someone could experience the kind of pleasure by their own hand that he was experiencing. It was almost obscene the way he fisted his erection and pulled his own orgasm from his body. And much like Dream Harry and Dream Snape it didn’t matter where he decided to pleasure himself. More often than not it was in bed, but sometimes it was in the morning in his shower or even after he had a bit too much to drink and the warmth from the fireplace was relaxing his body in just the right way. 

Lord knows, he hated himself. 

But he couldn’t seem to stop. 

The most miraculous thing about the entire, ridiculous situation, was that no matter how many times Snape found release in the memories of dreams, he never once looked at the young Harry and felt desire. Sure, he felt a flicker of anticipation, knowing that someday Dream Harry would become Real Harry, but he was fine with the boy as he was. It seemed as though the connection recognized that it just wasn’t time for a physical relationship. 

The connection itself and its hold on Snape was another source of great distress throughout the year for him. Whilst the boy was breaking more rules and likely putting himself in perilous danger, Snape had decided that he needed to look deeper into the potion he had taken and the bond that was realized. Of course, it couldn’t be that simple. 

His first issue was that he actually couldn’t remember many things from Venenum. It was strange since Snape had an almost photographic memory, but it seemed that something about the potion or maybe even the powerful magic of the book itself, had hindered his abilities to recall certain things. He knew that if he were to try and recreate several potions, including the bonding potion, he would have absolutely no idea where to start. 

Another obstacle that became more and more ominous everyday was Albus Dumbledore. The wise, old wizard had acted as a guardian and guide for Severus over the last thirteen years, but he was weary of the man. It wasn’t that there was a lack of trust, he would have followed Albus blindly anywhere probably, but it was his protective nature – bordering on obsessive – of the boy. 

There was no doubt in Snape’s mind that Albus wanted to ensure the boy was safe and relatively happy. He watched over Harry from afar at all times, much like Severus himself, but there was always a hint of something more behind the man’s behavior. No matter how hard Snape tried to ignore it he could not put aside the fact that it seemed that Albus was keeping Harry alive for not just the sake of the boy, but for something far more ominous. It seemed only time would tell, but Snape was acutely aware and the protective and admittedly possessive side of Snape was always in the foreground. 

He knew he would kill for Harry. 

Even if it were Albus.

And of course the other challenge was keeping the truth skillfully hidden from all parties. It was an absolute necessity for Snape’s mental and physical wellbeing that Harry stay as far away as possible. Even though he knew that his cruel and hateful actions could later impact his potential relationship with the boy in the future, he felt it was the right thing to do. 

“But for Merlin’s sake, would every year be this way?” Snape groaned out loud to himself. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_”I don’t understand,” Harry said with wide eyes, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Snape saw the worry lines and felt the urge to kiss them away._

_But he did not._

_“It’s complicated and I am ashamed for that part of my life, but just know that I did not intend for this to happen,” he tried steadily, his voice strong and confident._

_“I understand that you did not create our bond, but I am just trying to pull the pieces together of why you hurt me for so long.”_

_Dream Harry’s words were piercing and precise. It felt like Snape’s skin would burst into flames and his heart would be split in two._

_How do explain that he used hate to protect his fragile soul._

_The familiar tug of a changing moment pulls Snape through a blur, much like apparating. They are together and Harry is underneath him, their bodies are connected in the most intimate way possible and the pleasure is sublime._

_With every slow and steady thrust Severus pushes them further and further towards joined orgasm and when it finally hits and they are slammed against the shore with waves of pleasure it is life altering._

_After they are messy and hot and sweaty, but happy and content and close._

_“You know, I still don’t understand,” Harry mumbles against Snape’s chest, his mouth warm and familiar. “But I am happy we got here.”_

_“Me too,” Snape agrees, his eyelids heavy and his voice quiet and drifting._

_“But I want more.”_

_It’s a statement that is heavy and pregnant with unspoken dreams and expectations. It is far serious conversation for Snape’s sedated state and he suppresses a groan. As though trying to convey that he hears Harry, but wants to leave the worrisome words for the morning, he wraps his arms tightly against the man and gives a gentle squeeze._

_“I love you, isn’t that enough?”_

With a violent shutter Snape woke and stared at the ceiling. His cheeks were wet with dream tears that had somehow become real tears and he feels an unforgiving guilt in the pit of his stomach. 

He knew when Harry said that he was asking if loving him was enough to make Severus move forward. 

He knew without seeing that Dream Harry was suffering.

And he knew, despite his denial and reluctance, that Harry’s love was enough and always would be.


	5. August 1993-June 1994

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

_August 7, 1993_

There were many things that Severus Snape was; cunning, manipulative, brilliant, unwaveringly dedicated and among other things, but there were many things he was not. He was not made of stone and he was not immune to paralyzing panic. 

As he stood in front of the Headmaster, his hands gripping the edge of the old man’s desk, his knuckles white, his face even paler, he was rendered immobile from uncontained panic. 

“What do you mean Potter has been expelled from Hogwarts, Albus?” Snape asked through tight lips, a voice in his head trying to remind him to appear indifferent. 

He was losing that battle.

“Apparently, the poor boy unintentionally blew up his aunt,” the older wizard said, far too calm for Snape’s liking.

“The boy has killed someone?” Snape nearly shouted.

“No, no, Severus! He made a balloon out of the wretched woman. I believe the ministry is still attempting to pull her down. It’s all really quite humorous.” 

“How is the boy being expelled from Hogwarts amusing? There is no way we can watch over the arrogant child if he’s gone and done yet another stupid thing. Need I even mention the immeasurable threat of Sirius Black?” 

Snape had managed to spit out the words, sounding as full of disdain as he intended. He even felt a sliver of actual anger towards the boy. How could he have been so foolish as to use magic outside of Hogwarts? 

“He is far more powerful then he knows, Severus. It’s not his fault,” Albus said kindly, as though reading the potion master’s mind. “He was even able to call the Knight Bus which is a feat within itself for such a young wizard. He truly is remarkable.” 

“I know he is,” Snape muttered under his breath, his throat tightening as though to signal he was about to cry. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing,” Snape said coolly. “So, is he safe? We will get him out of his expulsion, won’t we?” 

“It would seem we don’t have to do anything. Cornelius has dropped all charges against him and is keeping him stowed away at the Leaky Cauldron until the new term begins. It would seem that the ministry is doing something right for once, protecting the boy from Black.” 

Severus let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He felt his chest relax and his heart began to beat more regularly. With unseeing eyes, Snape looked past the Headmaster and out the window. It was nearly one in the morning and the world outside of Hogwarts was black and never-ending. Snape felt the now familiar tug that told him that he would not rest again until he saw that Harry Potter was safe. 

“Is there something wrong, Severus?” Albus asked with a knowing sparkle in his eyes. Snape turned his attention back to the man and shook his head once and stood abruptly. He needed to escape the room before more questions came and before the need to see Harry was too overwhelming. 

“I’m well, but I must go,” he said as he turned to leave. 

“It’s okay to care about the boy, Severus. Nobody is going to hate you for having feelings.” 

He heard the older wizard’s words behind his back and stiffened, but did not turn around. Instead he just looked back over his shoulder, his long, black hair falling across his face, obscuring his features. 

“I promised to protect the boy, Ablus, that is all.” 

With that he swept out of the room and practically ran from the castle, trying to believe his own words, apparating instantly to the Leaky Cauldron when he passed the Hogwarts wards. 

-+-+-+  
Harry was sleeping soundly in the bed that had been so graciously offered to him by the Minster of Magic. The Leaky Cauldron was no place for a young boy to be, but at least he was out of harm’s way. 

For now. 

Snape studied the boy and noted that he had grown significantly since the last time he had seen him. There was still a childlike quality to him, but there were the beginnings of an older Harry that was familiar to Snape. 

As silently as possible and with the softest of movements, Snape ran a finger across the boy’s cheekbone. 

His magic warmed. 

And then he turned and was gone. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_June 7, 1994_

Snape stood away from the crowd watching as the students filed down towards the Hogwarts Express. He could see the Golden Trio and he was reminded of his sore limbs. Albus was right when he said that Harry was a powerful wizard. 

He still couldn’t believe that the boy had stunned him. Snape also couldn’t believe that he hadn’t felt anger as much as pride and pleasant surprise of the boy’s perfect execution of the curse. 

Surprise.

A very unfamiliar thing to Snape.

There had been many surprises this year. Sirius Black was innocent, Remus Lupin the werewolf hadn’t been conspiring with the wrongly convicted criminal. Hermione Granger mastered the magic of a Time Turner. Harry Potter found his first true happiness in his god-father. 

And most surprising, at least in Snape’s opinion, was that Potter conjured an incredible Patronus and saved the life of Sirius Black, as well as his own life. 

Snape had also found it remarkable that Harry’s Partonus was a stag, like his father. Snape’s Patronus was a doe. It was very interesting..

Also, Harry Potter almost had himself killed – again. 

That wasn’t so surprising. 

It was becoming increasingly more difficult to watch over the boy, which concerned Snape. It was his duty after all. What was even worse was that he felt a shift in the world. The days didn’t seem as bright as before and things felt scarier, just as it had when the Dark Lord was gaining power. He knew that if Voldemort returned he would seek out the person who had almost destroyed him. Snape also knew that his protection of Harry was limited and he couldn’t always be there to put himself between the boy and danger. Even though it hurt him to admit that, he wasn’t so foolish to believe he was invincible. Every day that went by there seemed to be more and more trepidation in Albus Dumbledore’s eyes and Snape knew that if the most powerful wizard in the world was frightened things were truly taking a dark turn. 

And Snape had been having selfish thoughts. 

What if something happened to Harry before he would realize that he was bonded to Snape? What if Snape couldn’t be there when the boy needed him the most? 

What if, and this was the worst scenario Snape could think of, Harry died and left Snape there alone. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_”No! Absolutely not! I will not let this happen.”_

_Severus looked sadly at Harry as he yelled and cried in front of the older man. His hands were outstretched and he was silently begging Harry to stop crying and instead let Snape hold him._

_“It’s not up to you, it’s not even up to me.”_

_“You can say no,” Harry pleaded, his hands running through his dark hair wildly. “He can’t make you do this, Severus. He can’t do this to me!”_

_Severus stepped towards the younger man and tugged him into his embrace. For a moment Harry resisted, trying to break free, but then he stopped, giving up and instead collapsed into Snape’s safe arms._

_“I can’t lose you or him. Haven’t I lost enough?” Harry cried, his face buried in Snape’s shoulder._

_“You don’t deserve this, no one does, but it has to be this way. It’s the only way that Voldemort can be defeated. I know it’s hard for you to see past the pain you’re feeling, but this is for the best, Harry.” Snape whispered as he rested his cheek on the top of Harry’s head._

_“But I love you.”_

_“And I love you.”_

_Snape felt the world shift around him and suddenly he was lying in a pool of his own blood. Harry was kneeling over him, tears streaming down his face. He could just make out Ron and Hermione standing in the background._

_A sudden pain in his neck made him realize he was injured._

_He was dying._

_“No, no, no.”_

_It was Harry repeating the word, his face inches from Snape’s. There was so much that he needed to say in that moment and as he looked up at Harry he felt that maybe he had a little time – a little life – left to say what he needed to say._

_“Look at me…”_

With a heart wrenching scream, Snape woke from his dream. The cry continued to pour from his throat and he was faintly aware that glass was shattering all around him. His anguish was coming from him in uncontrollable waves and his magic was destroying everything around him.

He was going to die. Harry was going to live. Snape found a glimmer of hope in that, but it was outweighed by almost crippling pain.  
But the Harry in his dream was young - young enough to still be in school.

Severus Snape was going to die in the arms of Harry Potter.

Before Harry would leave Hogwarts.


	6. July 1994-June 1995

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! This is going to be a longer chapter which is part of the reason it took me a few days to post. I know there are those of you who are looking for some intense smut and I assure you it is to come (likely some in the next chapter), but alas this chapter doesn't have anything particularly juicy. I hope you will stick it out anyway and see how things progress. I will do my best to satisfy the needs of my readers.
> 
> Feedback is of course always welcome!

_July 31, 1994_

The pain was increasing every day and Snape knew that it would only be a matter of time until he was summoned to the Dark Lord again. It seemed that he was in an almost constant state of panic. The slightest burn on the skin or even a crack of thunder on a stormy night was enough to leave him undone. 

He had confided in Albus and the older wizard had comforted him, always reminding him the reasons he needed to be stronger – needed to be fearless. They would talk at length about the importance of Voldemort’s faith in Severus and how Harry Potter’s very life depended on whether or not Snape could get away with being a double agent.  
Snape was scared, terrified even, but he wouldn’t break. He couldn’t. 

“I must make it through this. I must protect the wizarding world and those – the one – I love.” 

He said these words to himself as he pulled his memories from his mind, slipping them into his pensieve. Ever since Severus had woken to the image of Harry crying over his dead body, he was extra careful to preserve any memories he could to ensure that even if he wasn’t around to tell the boy how much he loved him himself, there would be the pensieve…

Snape felt sick just thinking about it. 

“Harry, Harry you are so loved. I love you Harry, be safe…” 

Severus trailed off as he looked beyond his pensieve somewhere far away, a place that was full of dread and sadness. How was he to go on knowing he would likely die before he could tell Harry Potter how deeply and profoundly loved he was.

“Happy fourteenth birthday, Harry.” 

Walking stiffly to his chambers, Snape collapsed on the bed, suppressing tears and shivering in the cold that was deep in his bones. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_August 22, 1994_

“Albus!” 

“What’s happened, Severus?” 

Snape had used the floo to get to the Headmaster’s office and as he stumbled from the fireplace, clutching his arm tightly, he yelled. 

“I’m being summoned!” 

For a moment there was a look of shock on Albus Dumbledore’s face, as though he had thought maybe the Dark Lord’s return was a distance and unlikely possibility. 

The shock was gone almost instantly and instead replaced with a serene calm. 

“Listen to me, boy,” the older wizard said, placing his hand firmly, but lovingly on Severus’s shoulder. The younger man writhed in pain, but continued to keep eye contact. 

“Be brave, Severus. Be the man I know you truly are. Don’t forget your loyalties, but do not lose your own life. You are loved Severus, you are needed, and you will come back to Hogwarts tonight. Do you understand?” 

All Snape could do was give a curt nod before turning away and apparating from the the castle and landing among other Death Eaters at the Qudditch World Cup.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_October 31, 1994_

“Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?” 

Potter stood with the other three contestants chosen for the Triwizard Tournment. Snape wanted to be angry or upset, but instead he just stood quietly, observant, indifferent, as Albus questioned the boy. 

“No-no!” Harry cried, fear evident on his face. Snape knew that the boy had a knack for getting into trouble, but he also knew that it wasn’t Harry’s character to willingly (or unnecessarily) put himself in harm’s way. 

“He cannot compete!” Professor McGonagall said, her voice quivering. Her favorite Gryffindor had basically been given a death sentence. 

“The Goblet is a contract, binding and unbreakable,” Crouch muttered worriedly from the corner. It was clear to Snape that the man was trying to work the entire thing out for himself, but like the rest knew that dark forces were at work here. 

“Yes, he must…”

“Albus you can’t be seriously considering this! He is just fourteen.” Minerva tried, putting her hands to her face in distress. 

Snape felt a sting at her words, specifically the mention of Harry’s age. The boy had grown more into a man over the summer then Snape could have ever imagined, but there he stood before Snape, the beginnings of his Dream Harry peeking through. 

“Maybe,” Snape drawled, conspiratorially. “We should let him compete. Let us see how this plays out.” 

Throwing her hands in the air Minerva stormed from the room followed closely by Crouch. Feeling uncomfortable, the other three contestants took their cue from the professor and left silently. Only Harry, the Headmaster, and the potions master remained.

Looking into the deep, black eyes of Snape, Albus nodded in agreement, an unspoken conversation happening between them. It wouldn’t do well to tell the boy that this situation was ideal to bait the Dark Lord. 

Snape tried to ignore it himself.

“You will compete Harry,” Albus said absolutely. Harry looked at the man desperately, hoping that it wasn’t true. As though he couldn’t stand the boy’s gaze, Dumbledore left quickly. 

And then there were two. 

“This isn’t happening right now,” Harry whispered, his head down, eyes focused on the stone floor beneath his feet. 

A long moment passed before Snape spoke. He was entirely out of his element standing there with the boy. All he wanted was to reach out and comfort him, but he knew he could not. 

“Unfortunately, Potter, it is happening. It seems that once again your hunger for fame has won you another dangerous situation where you are in perilous danger.” Snape sneered. 

“I didn’t put my name in the Goblet!” Harry said forcefully, turning his blazing eyes to Snape.

Severus knew he hadn’t. 

“Regardless, you must compete and how enjoyable it will be to see you measure up to the older students,” Snape continued, trying to push down his self-hatred.

“I am not going to survive this.”

It wasn’t a question or even a debatable statement. 

Harry saw it as fact.

“No you won’t. I won’t allow it.” 

The words were out before Snape could stop them and seeing the confusion twisting Harry’s features reminded him why he couldn’t get close to the boy. 

“What did you say?”

“I just mean that I am a teacher at this school and it is my responsibility to ensure the safety and care of the students here. Just like any other student, although rather begrudgingly, I will do my best to protect you.” 

Snape knew he sounded ridiculous, but he had glued his mask to his face and his features were ugly and cruel.

But Harry didn’t look angry or disappointed or hurt. Instead, Snape saw comfort. 

“I know you will protect me.” 

No other words were spoken. 

With the longest and fastest strides Snape had ever taken, he swept from the room and within minutes was slamming the door of his potions classroom. 

The boy knew.

Maybe not consciously, but Harry Potter knew Snape was devoted to him. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_November 24, 1994_

Why dragons? Snape couldn’t breathe as he watched with absolute horror as Harry Potter fought clumsily against a Hungarian Horntail. 

But The-Boy-Who-Lived continued to live.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_December 25, 1994_

Harry Potter was a heterosexual.

Harry Potter had feelings for Cho Change – a fucking Ravenclaw. 

Harry Potter was beyond handsome in his dress robes.

Harry Potter wasn’t a homosexual. 

Harry Potter wasn’t attracted to men.

Harry Potter was never going to desire Severus Snape.

Harry Potter was never going to want Severus Snape. 

Harry Potter was never going to love Severus Snape. 

And although Harry Potter looked unbearably miserable at the Yule Ball, Snape could not see past his bleeding heart. 

Maybe there was no bond at all? 

Maybe Snape could stop loving him? 

As the night came to a close, students experiencing every emotion allowed in their tiny, adolescent bodies, Severus Snape went to bed alone. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_February 24, 1995_

The boy was going to drown. 

Snape had got over his heartache much quicker than he had expected. At some point he realized that despite Harry’s lack of interest in men, Snape could not stop caring for the boy. 

So, why try to change his feelings? He was going to die soon anyway, he reasoned with himself.

But did Potter really have to die in the Black Lake? Was Snape supposed to just sit there in silent anticipation as his soulmate pushed further and further down into a watery grave? 

Suddenly there was a commotion and said Potter came flying through the air and landed with a wet thud on the platform.

As Harry gasped for air, trying to catch his breath, So did Severus Snape. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_May 20, 1995_

“Severus, what did he say?” 

“The boy is in danger, Albus, we cannot let him compete in the last task.” Snape pleaded, his body shaking. He knew that something was going to happen, but he hadn’t been told what it was. For whatever reason, despite the almost constant danger Harry had been in since birth, there was something far scarier and more sinister about the coming weeks. 

Snape and Dumbledore knew the Dark Lord had returned.

Soon Harry would know.

And soon so would everyone else. 

“He must compete, there is nothing to be done.” 

“Albus…”

“What is it? You look more frightened then I have ever seen you, Severus.” Dumbledore said with fear in his voice. “You are scaring me, boy.” 

And for a moment Snape almost mustered the courage to finally reveal his secret, to finally burden someone else with his heartache. How simple it would be to just tell the Headmaster and have someone who could console him – or admonish him. In that moment it didn’t matter if Albus hated him or loved him, Severus felt he would die if he didn’t tell someone about the bond. 

But he didn’t. 

He couldn’t.

“It’s nothing Albus,” Snape lied, standing shakily. “I just fear the worst is yet to come.”

“I think you are right. Many people are going to die.” 

And with a nod Snape left and retreated to his dungeons. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_June 24, 1995_

A portkey. 

Snape should have known, but there was no time to think about that now. He was running, sprinting so quickly he felt that maybe he could fly. Harry Potter was in more danger with the Moody impersonator then he had been in the graveyard. 

There was no way out this time.

As Snape climbed the stairs he felt his window of time to save the boy getting smaller and smaller. He didn’t know what he was going to do if the boy were killed right then.

Harry had to live. 

As Snape reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom he burst into the room with his wand drawn. 

“Harry move!” 

With a stunned look the boy leapt away and Snape had to restrain himself from casting the killing curse right then and there. Luckily, the other professors and the Headmaster came rushing in after him and the entire, insane situation was taken under control within moments. 

And without thought, without even fear, Snape moved to the boy. He grabbed Harry by his arm and pulled him forcefully from the room. Severus lead Harry down a flight of stairs and into a dimly lit corridor. When he finally stopped he put Harry in front of him, holding him at arm’s length, looking him over carefully.

“Are you injured? Did he hurt you?” Snape demanded harshly. 

“I’m okay,” Harry said, his voice thick with angusih. It was then that Snape realized the boy was crying hot angry tears. 

So he pulled him into his embrace.

“Everything is going to be okay, Harry.” Snape said as soothingly as he could. He was torn between being elated at the contact and horrified by his inability to stay strong.

“It’s not going to be okay, it’s never going to be okay! He’s dead, they killed Cederic. Voldemort’s back, he’s back and he killed Cederic,” Harry cried, his face buried in Snape’s shoulder. 

Severus held on as tight as he could and didn’t let go.

He didn’t pull away when Harry squeezed tighter.

He didn’t pull them apart as the boy cried harder.

He didn’t hold them up as Harry’s legs gave out and they sunk to the floor together.

And he didn’t let go until he heard people coming. 

And even then he kept an arm wrapped securely around Harry.

His harry. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_”We can have a life outside of Hogwarts, Severus.”_

_Snape’s back was to Harry, but he didn’t have to see the younger wizard’s face to know there was pain there._

_“You know that we can’t have anything more until the Dark Lord is defeated,” Snape responded, refusing to turn to the man he loved._

_“But what if we don’t survive?”_

_Harry’s words were ripping through Severus because he knew that one of them wouldn’t survive this war._

_“Harry, come here,” Snape said finally turning and holding a hand out. Their bond was pulling at them painfully and they knew they wouldn’t feel complete until they were touching  
and in each other’s embrace. _

_“Please, Severus, I love you.”_

_“Harry…”_

_The floor fell away from Snape’s feet and instead came painfully hard against his back._

_“No, no, no.”_

_Snape knew what was happening. It was familiar now._

_“Look at me…”_

_“Don’t you dare die, Snape,” Harry bit, ignoring his two best friends standing behind him._

_Severus tried to smile, but couldn’t. Instead everything went dark._

There was a routine to Snape’s nightmares now. 

Quietly, he rose from his bed, dressed, and disappeared into the castle, working his way outside. It was impossible to sleep after seeing the anger and sadness and love in those incredible green eyes.

No matter what though, Snape’s heart beat to the same beat it always had. 

_Harry you are so loved. I love you Harry, be safe..._


	7. August 1995-June 1996: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer tonight, guys.  
> Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Let me know.
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

_August 2, 1995_

The green flames engulfed Snape as he climbed from the fireplace into the Headmaster’s office. His long black hair hung lanky and dead, his eyes just as blank. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so numb. 

“Ah, Severus, thank you for coming so quickly,” Albus said from behind his desk, motioning for the potions master to take a seat. Without a word Snape sat down and looked into the worried eyes of his mentor. 

“We have a situation on our hands,” Albus said calmly, as though he knew his next words were going to elicit a more emotional response. 

“When have we ever _not_ had a situation on our hands?” Snape replied sarcastically with a roll of his dark eyes. 

“It’s about Harry.”

Snape’s chest tightened, but he remained completely indifferent on the outside.

“Again, when has there been a situation in which Potter is not at the very core.” 

“Dementors attacked Harry and his cousin Dudley. He used a patronus and was promptly expelled from Hogwarts. He has a hearing at the Ministry soon.” 

Albus said all of this in a monotone voice trying to lessen the severity of the situation. Maybe he thought that Snape would have some kind of angry outburst, but the potions master did not. Instead, he just sat quietly, his eyes still trained on Dumbledore, his expression unreadable. 

“Well, that won’t do, obviously.” Snape said matter-of-factly. The wizarding world was quickly collapsing in on itself as the weight of the Dark Lord’s return weighed down on them. Severus didn’t feel it needed to be said that it was the utmost importance that Harry Potter return to Hogwarts in September. Knowing that Albus also agreed with this, he knew the older wizard wouldn’t allow for the boy to be taken away. 

“There is more, Severus.” 

The dark haired man continued to look expectantly at his mentor. 

“I feel that it will be imperative that Harry be kept at a distance from me this year. I have an inkling that my presence in his life might actually hinder the boy. It’s because of this that I will need you to keep an even closer eye on him, Severus.” Dumbledore finished quietly. 

“Very well.” 

For a long moment the two wizards looked at each other intensely, one trying to unravel a mystery as the other built a brick wall higher and higher. 

The wall would win tonight.

“The boy will be moved to Grimmauld Place in a few days’ time. Since the Order has come together again Sirius Black has offered his childhood home as Headquarters. The Weasley’s and Miss. Granger are already there. We will have a meeting when Harry arrives and I expect a full report from you.” 

Snape nodded at the Headmaster’s words and then left without another word. 

He hadn’t spoken to Harry since he had comforted him after Cederic’s death, but he felt nothing. Instead, he felt more disturbed by the fact that it seemed that maybe he was losing Harry. Everything was numb and as he strode down the dark corridors of the castle he willed himself to feel something – anything – but there was nothing.

Just a cold deep in his bones. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_August 6, 1995_

“Thank you for your information, Severus,” Dumbledore said with a nod in the wizard’s direction. Members of the Order of the Phoenix, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, and of course Severus Snape, sat around a long table in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry Potter was somewhere upstairs with his friends and the world felt out of balance to Severus. 

Nodding back to Albus, Snape stood and made a curt nod to indicate that he was going to take his leave. For some reason he felt suffocated and he wanted to feel the cool summer air on his face. More than that he wanted to escape the emptiness he felt where something wonderful had been before. 

Before he returned to Voldemort and he stilled had hope for Harry.

Before he realized that the seemingly unbreakable bond was likely to ever be realized by his other half.

Snape had spent the majority of his summer at the feet of the Dark Lord, in council with Dumbledore, or desperately wishing that he had never been given Venenum. Maybe then he would have never known that someone could love someone else so completely and in the other hand hurt as deeply as he had. 

But then maybe Harry Potter wouldn’t have been The-Boy-Who-Lived, but just a boy who died at his home in Gordric’s Hallow with his parent? 

As pushed open the kitchen door and began walking to the front door he heard someone come down the stairs. 

“Professor?” 

He had felt the tug and pull before he heard Harry speak. 

“What?” Snape sneered turning swiftly to look at the boy, but then took a step back. This was no boy. 

This was a man.

This was Dream Harry. 

“I don’t mean to bother you, sir, but I was wondering if I could speak with you privately for a moment,” Harry asked as he stood in the shadow of the looming potions master.  
Unsure what to do and still trying to breathe properly while looking into beautiful, bright green eyes, Snape raised his eyebrows. 

Taking this as consent, Harry walked past Severus and opened the door into the study. Snape followed silently, feeling as though he was being dragged along like an animal on a leash. He couldn’t rip away from their tethered hearts. 

“What is it, Potter?” Snape finally managed, but the severity in his voice was lost and instead it just sounded like exasperation. Harry had taken a seat on the sofa and held out a hand towards the armchair across from him, inviting Snape to sit. 

He did without a second thought. 

“I find it difficult for me to say this to you, but I have been unable to think of much else besides that day in the maze and when I returned to Hogwarts. When I’m awake I feel immeasurable fear and anger, but when I sleep I only dream of Cedric’s lifeless body and th-the c-cold stare of Vol-Voldemort. It seems that I cannot rest,” Harry said, his voice breaking at the end. 

Snape tried to think of something nasty to say, but he remained silent. 

“But something else that I can’t stop thinking about is you, sir.” 

Snape’s eyes widen just slightly and he wondered if this was some kind of cruel trick. 

“When I was in that locked room with Barty Crouch Jr. I was sure in that moment that I was going to die, but you came bursting through the door and I knew instantly that I was safe. And then when you – when you…” 

Harry stopped. 

“When I what, Mister Potter?” 

Snape’s voice was deathly quiet, a low menacing whisper. Harry looked at him startled by the man’s coldness, but his brave Gryffindor heart pushed him on. 

“When you held me, sir. I mean when you comforted me, I had never felt that kind of security before. Even though I was crying and I felt like nothing would ever be okay again, somehow I knew with you right there that it would be. I knew you’d protect me no matter what.” 

Harry finished and Snape couldn’t think straight. 

Instead, he felt himself rapidly thawing, and the remaining emotion was coming up to his eyes and threatening to become tears. 

“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you thank you, sir. Above all else I want you to know that even though you have been terrible to me and even though I have had my doubts about you, I don’t anymore. Whatever kind of hatred you hold for me is much easier to endure now because I know that somewhere inside of you there is someone who cares. I like that person, sir.” 

Again, Snape said nothing and continued to look at the boy – no man – sitting across from him. After a stretch of silence, Harry stood and walked to the door without a second glance. 

As Harry retreated further and further away, Snape could feel the connection between them lengthening, growing stronger, and pulling taut until Snape finally began crying. 

And he couldn’t seem to stop.

He cried as he apparated to Spinner’s End.

He cried as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom. 

And he cried himself to sleep. 

But for once they weren’t entirely sad tears.

And for once he wasn’t numb. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _September 13, 1995_

Snape was finishing his last round around the castle. Things were much quieter than they had ever been in the past. Dolores Umbridge’s reign of terror was putting the students into a box and they were frightened to set a toe out of line and even though Snape felt great disdain for most of his students, he hated that wretched woman with a passion. 

Rounding a corner Snape came face to face with Harry Potter. 

It wasn’t really surprising that he was out past curfew since it seemed that breaking the rules was Harry’s default setting. However, what was surprising, or rather concerning, was that there was blood dripping from his hand onto the stone floor. 

“Let me see your hand, Potter,” Snape said harshly, but he knew there was no malice in his voice. 

Ever since Harry had spoken with him at Grimmauld Place there seemed to be some kind of silent agreement between them. Snape continued berating and Harry continued to get heated and angry, but they both knew that the other was playing a part that was far too important to break. 

Holding his hand up to Severus, the potions master inspected it and saw the deep gashes that were actually words on the boy’s soft skin. 

_I must not tell lies_

Anger flared inside of Snape and he felt the familiar possessiveness cloud his thoughts. How dare that bitch do this to, Harry? 

“Come with me.” 

As the pair made their way to Snape’s office they were silent, but he felt something buzzing between them and wondered if Harry felt it too. 

Stepping through his wards, Snape opened the door and Harry followed in, having never seen the potions master’s office. Without a word Harry sat in a chair by the desk and waited as Severus rummaged around finding a healing balm that would stop the bleeding and the pain. 

“Here, this will help, but it will likely scar,” he said coming over to the younger wizard. Pulling up a chair next to Harry he reached his hand out for and Harry placed his injured hand in the care of the professor. 

They were quiet as he worked the balm into Harry’s skin, the healing properties working almost immediately to clot the bleeding and alleviate the pain. Snape was reminded of another time when he had soothed Harry’s pain, his eyes flickering to the lightening bolt skin for a moment before returning to the hand. 

Suddenly, Harry let out a sigh of relief and his entire body relaxed into the chair. Snape felt a surge of pride and desire shoot through him. There was something entirely satisfying about healing his other half and even though the hand was healed enough, he continued to massage his long fingers against the front and palm of Harry’s hand. 

“Snape.” 

Severus looked up and found Harry staring at him, his eyes blazing. Snape thought his skin my catch fire from the intensity of Harry’s gaze. 

“Yes?” 

The word came out a whisper. 

“Thank you.” Harry whispered back and there was so much more than thanks in his voice. 

“Harry…” 

“Yes?” Harry said, a quiet urgency there and Snape felt his entire body break into a tremble and he knew that he was dangerously close to doing something foolish.

But he did it anyway. 

Leaning into Harry, Snape placed a hand on the side of the young wizard’s face pulling him closer and then he captured his lips. It was a tender kiss, something that had the potential to be innocent, but was far too long and lovely to be anything but loving. 

Snape could not think and so instead he closed his eyes and molded his mouth to Harry’s, praying that he wouldn’t pull away.

And Harry didn’t pull away, but instead he leaned into Severus and kissed the man back which earned him a moan that came from deep within the professor’s throat. 

That broke the connection and Harry pulled away.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Harry said sadly, his eyes wide and surprised. 

Snape didn’t say anything, but pulled back quickly. Standing abruptly, he turned his back to Harry and didn’t moved or speak until he heard the click of the door closing. 

All Severus could think was that he had ruined everything, but even with that thinking he couldn’t help running his long fingers of his lips. 

It had been both wonderful and tragic, but Snape was happy he would die with the knowledge that he had kissed Harry Potter. 

After slipping the kiss into the pensieve, he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _September 14, 1995_

The day past in a blur.

There had been no Gryffindor potions and Snape hadn’t seen Harry at all which fueled Snape’s almost all encompassing dread. 

Upon waking, Snape had first smiled at the memory, but it quickly turned into something terrible. With every passing moment is seemed that everything was dangerously messed up. 

Snape was Harry’s professor.

Harry was just fifteen-years-old – a child really. 

And above else, Harry himself even said that Snape shouldn’t have done it. 

By the end of the school day Snape was in a near state of panic. What if Harry told Hermione and Ron or worse Dumbledore? What if Harry felt he could no longer trust the man he thought would always protect him? 

Or, and this was unfathomably worse to Snape above all other things, what if Harry had been repulsed by him? 

As the last of his students filed from the potions classroom, Snape stared unseeing at the papers in front of him. Maybe this was how he was meant to die? 

From idiocy. 

There was a loud bang and Snape jumped looking for the source. Harry Potter had come rushing in, slamming the door behind him, his face set in hard determination. 

“Potter!” Snape said, standing so quickly he knocked back his chair. He felt himself trying to come up with the words to fix everything, but he was cut off. 

“You shouldn’t have kissed me, Snape.” Harry said firmly as he came around the desk to stand face to face with the taller professor. “But if you don’t do it again I think I am going to lose my mind.” 

With those words Harry practically lunged at Snape, his mouth assaulting the older wizard’s lips as Snape tried to keep up. It felt like everything was on fire and Snape was overwhelmed with all the new sensations. 

Harry tasted of pumpkin juice and something sweet. He smelled fresh and clean and his body was hard and taut beneath Snape’s roaming hands. The intensity between them was almost too much and Severus was sure they were going to collapse under the weight of their connection. 

Without breaking their kiss, Snape picked up Harry and pressed him down on his desk. The way Harry willingly laid down for Snape, his body relaxed under Severus, was unbearably erotic and Snape couldn’t stop himself from pushing his erection against Harry’s knee. 

“Severus…” 

It was the sexiest moan that Snape had ever heard and he felt Harry’s own erection pressing against him.

But he felt himself losing control and pulled back, looking down at Harry.

“What is this?” Snape breathed heavily.

“I don’t know.” Harry laughed, his head lolling to the side and his mouth split into an incredible smile. 

“No one can know,” Severus warned seriously, but Harry was still smiling up at him.

“Of course they can’t.” 

“If someone finds out it will be more then Dumbledore to deal with,” Snape continued. 

“I know,” Harry whispered, leaning up to kiss Severus lightly. 

“Harry, I am being serious.” 

“I know you are, but I think it’s funny you think I would ever jeopardize my chance to kiss you. I don’t know what I am feeling right now, but I hope it never ends.” 

With that Harry laughed again and pulled Severus down for another searing kiss. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _November 1, 1995_

“Severus, merlin, please don’t stop.”

Harry was lying under Snape, his hands clawing into his back and his heard thrown back. Severus had pulled Harry’s shirt off and was kissing him from his neck down to his hips. The younger wizard’s erection was evident through his muggle jeans and it took all of Snape’s willpower to keep his hands above Harry’s waistband. 

“Why are you torturing me?” Harry called, trying to push Severus lower, but the older man was stronger and wouldn’t be moved.

“Harry…” Severus warned between kisses.

“Just fuck me!” Harry practically yelled and Snape couldn’t help himself from snickering against the tight muscles of the boy’s stomach. 

“No.” 

“Are you doing this to punish me?” Harry groaned, throwing an arm over his face as though he were in great pain.

“You know very well that I am no punishing you, Mister Potter,” Snape said sternly, but still smiling. 

“Why must we wait? I want you and you want me, it’s that simple,” Harry tried to bargain. Snape stopped his kissing and looked up at the boy and cocked an eyebrow. 

“There are a great many things to consider, the main one being that you are fifteen,” Snape said carefully. “And I want you to be ready.” 

“I _am_ ready, Severus.” Harry stressed, but Snape shook his head.

“I don’t think so. Plus, it’s already almost curfew and if I am going to fuck you I need plenty of time with you,” Snape said gently. Rolling his eyes dramatically, Harry sat up, pulling  
on his shirt again. 

After straightening his tie and running a hand through his hair, he looked down at Snape expectantly. 

With a smirk, Snape stood and kissed Harry tenderly. 

“Mmm, I just don’t understand this,” the boy said with a satisfied hum. “I was always sure I was straight.” 

Hearing those words made Snape’s stomach knot and his thoughts shift into frightening territory. 

“You’re young, who knows. Maybe you are.” 

The comment was supposed to be in jest, but there was something in Harry’s face that worried Snape. 

“Maybe,” Harry muttered. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you.” 

With that the boy gave Severus a peck on the cheek and left. 

Falling into bed, all Snape could think about what the look on Harry’s face and the way he had said maybe. Severus couldn’t bear the thought of losing him now and it was almost painful to consider. 

But Snape hadn’t yet told Harry about their bond. It just never seemed like the right time, he rationalized. 

But Snape was then considering if maybe he shouldn’t tell the boy at all. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_December 18, 1995_

Snape’s hand was scribbling quickly across some parchment as he wrote vicious words to a second year who seemed incapable of understanding the very basics of potions. It was moments like these that Snape hated his job. 

There was another reason Snape was being so nasty. He was anxious about the students leaving for the Christmas holiday. Harry and him hadn’t really planned what they were to do or if they would even remain in contact. He knew he would see Harry at Grimmauld Place when he went for Order meetings, but he was doubtful he could find a chance to be alone with him.

Their love affair, or whatever it was, continued to grow in intensity as well as emotionally. Of course, Snape had already known that he would fall in love with Harry Potter, but he suspected that maybe the boy was falling in love with him as well. 

A knock at the door startled Snape, but he called the person in. 

It was Harry and he looked strange. 

“You never knock,” Snape said quietly, standing slowly. 

Something wasn’t right. 

“Can I talk with you for a moment,” Harry said softly and Severus detected something in the boy’s voice that made his blood run cold. 

Guilt.

“Of course,” Snape said, coming around the desk and holding his hands out to Harry. The boy shook his head and stood out of Severus’s reach. “What’s wrong?” 

“I want you to know that it didn’t mean anything, but I had to know. Everything has been a bit confusing and I just needed to see what it was like.” 

All the words were coming from Harry’s mouth in a quick and frantic stream and Snape’s face hardened. He could feel himself closing off from the boy. 

“What did you do?”

There was a long pause.

“I kissed Cho Chang.” 

For several painful moments there was complete silence. 

“Get out.” 

Harry’s eyes widened and he took a step forward, but Snape held up his hand. 

“Leave this instant, Mister Potter.” 

“Severus, I can explain, please just listen to me.” Harry tried, but Snape wouldn’t hear it. The potions master walked past the student and disappeared into his private chambers, slamming the door effectively. 

Neither one heard the other’s tears. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_December 21, 1995_

Arthur Weasley was lying in a hospital bed at St. Mungo’s on the verge of death, but all Snape could think about was Harry and his betrayal. 

They hadn’t spoken a word to each other until Albus informed them both that Harry would be receiving occlumency lessons from Snape. 

But then the boy had left for Grimmauld Place and Snape felt like he might die from the heartache. 

Snape decided that he would lock himself away in his chambers and refuse to emerge until summoned by the Dark Lord or upon the return of the students, whichever came first. It was there in his locked cage that he heard the tapping of an owl at his window. 

Hedwig. 

Reluctantly, he opened the window and took the owl’s delivery. There was a letter and a small wrapped box. With shaking hands he opened the letter. 

_Severus,_

_I hope you are reading this and I hope you can forgive me. What I did was wrong and I knew the moment I did it that it was wrong, but you must know that I wasn’t doing it to hurt you. I just needed to figure things out for myself._

_Until you happened I always thought that I was only attracted to women, but that all seemed to change. When we began our relationship I figured that it meant that I was gay, but as time went on I realized that I was still also attracted to women. It frightened me. I didn’t know if I was bisexual or somehow you were the exception. I needed to know the truth._

_I’m sure you know that I have previously had feelings for Cho, but I promise you that when I realized I wanted you there was never even the consideration of breaking the trust you gave me. Unfortunately, I did that unintentionally._

_When I kissed Cho it was more of an experiment. The truth is that I am still attracted to women, but kissing Cho made me realize that it didn’t matter because the only person I want is you. I pray that you will be forgiving and believe me when I tell you that although I don’t understand this crazy connection we have, I love you and I want you and above all else, I need you, Severus._

_In the box is my Christmas present to you. It is a silver bracelet that has been charmed to a matching one that I will wear. If we are ever separated, we can send messages to one another through the connection. The messages only appear when we are wearing it and no one else can see it because it is charmed for us specifically._

_Come to me Severus. I am begging you. With everything that has happened with Mr. Weasley and Voldemort, I am scared and I find myself almost violently angry. The only person I  
want – need – is you. Please come to me. _

_I will place a silencing charm on my bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Come to me at midnight tonight and hold me._

_If you don’t come, then I know it’s over._

_I love you and I’m sorry.  
HP_

There was no decision to be made.

Opening the box quickly, Snape put the bracelet on and felt his body warm as it recognized Harry’s magic. Holding his wand to the bracelet he sent Harry a message and then turned to prepare for his departure to Grimmauld Place. 

Miles and miles away, Harry was lying on his bed and feeling more alone and frightened then he could ever remember feeling. But then there was a warmth against his wrist and as he pulled up his sleeve to inspect the bracelet he saw five words. 

_You are mine to hold_


	8. August 1995-June 1996: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last part of this chapter was for some reason the hardest to write so far for me. I hope you enjoy it and stick around as more chapters are uploaded. 
> 
> Thoughts and suggestions? Leave a comment and let me know what you think. I love it when I hear from readers! 
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

_March 31, 1996_

The Hogwarts potions master sat behind his desk attempting to read through student’s papers, but his mind was wandering. It had been a little over three months since Snape had travelled to Grimmauld Place in the dark of the night to see Harry Potter. And it had been a little over three months of blissed out happiness. 

Which made Snape anxious. 

History would have Severus believe that when things were at their best it meant they were at their most fragile. No matter how many times Harry pressed his body against Severus’s and no matter how many kisses he gave willing to his professor, every happy moment was tinted with pessimism. 

And that wasn’t even considering the fact that Voldemort had returned in full force and Snape was marching silently to his death. 

It seemed like every day grew darker and Severus felt as though he was running out of time to prepare Harry for war and running out of time to love the boy endlessly. Even though they spent almost every night together practicing occlumency and clinging to each other fiercely, it wasn’t enough for Severus. The more and more time spent with the boy, the stronger the bond grew, and the harder it became to hide the connection from Harry. 

Plus, and Snape hated himself for this, he hadn’t told Harry he loved him yet. 

It wasn’t like Potter didn’t know that Snape cared for him deeply and it wasn’t as though Harry had doubts about Snape’s faithfulness, but it was obvious to the older wizard how hurt the boy was by his silence. Every time Harry made a declaration of love or tried to convince Snape to make love to him, he was promptly given either silence or a firm no. 

It was a vicious cycle. 

Snape looked up from his desk and to the clock on the wall. Any moment Harry would be there for his occlumency lesson. Some of Severus’s favorite moments were the times right before Harry came him, when the anticipation was sweet and intense. It was in those moments that Snape relished their bond because he could feel Harry moving closer and closer to him as the boy worked his way through the castle. There was nothing quite like it. 

However, Harry was becoming stronger with his occlumency and soon he would be able to lock Snape out and maybe even get into his professor’s mind. Snape knew if the boy saw in, the first thing he would see was the bond and the very idea of explaining it to him was terrifying. 

For weeks Snape had basked in his ability to stride right into the mind and memories of his young love. He was given the gift of seeing Harry’s thoughts about him, see the way Harry saw him, and watched the wicked things that Harry daydreamed of. 

Harry’s erotic thoughts were intense source material for Snape at night when he had worked them both up from long hours of kissing and touching. He would always stop them from going further, but it was getting more and more difficult to tell him no. Harry was a quick learner and after months of observing Snape’s weak spots, he was quick to manipulate the professor with his devilish mouth and tongue. 

“Severus?”

Snape turned his head and saw Harry standing behind him. He was wearing the muggle jeans Snape loved and his hair was mused in that sexy way that drove him crazy. In two long strides Severus pulled Harry into him and kissed him soundly. He could feel Harry smiling into their kiss and soon found himself smiling too. 

The bond flared and Snape eased his hold on the boy, frightened that Harry felt it too. 

“Shall we begin?” 

 

For several long hours Snape assaulted Harry’s mind and the boy did his best to push him out, but he couldn’t. It seemed like the boy was more tired than usual and even though Snape would have liked to ease up on him, he knew that it was for the best that Harry be pushed to his absolute limit. 

“Stop it!” 

“Harry we must go on,” Snape said grimly, ignoring the part of him that wished to scoop the boy in his arms to take away the pain. That would be for later, he reminded himself. 

“We’ve been at it for hours, if I could just rest,” Harry said as the sweat dripped down his forehead and into his eyes. 

“The Dark Lord isn’t resting,” Snape tried. 

Potter shook his head and leaned against Snape’s desk. Raising his wand, the professor pointed it towards the boy preparing to reenter his young mind, but somehow Harry had managed to draw his wand and yell an incantation before Snape could speak. Too surprised to stop Harry, he felt his blood run cold as the boy entered his mind. 

Everything was happening so quickly that it was a sickening mixture of Snape’s best and worst moments. He saw himself kissing the feet of Voldemort in one instance and then immediately he was cradling an infant Harry in his arms. There he was on the floor right after taking the Venenum potion and then it was a horrible montage of Snape learning of the bond and doing everything in his power to fight it. He knew that Harry had seen enough to realize that Snape hadn’t told him everything. 

The boy pulled out and Snape found himself on his knees, a heap on the ground, tears streaming down his face. He could hear the heavy breathing above him and raised his head to look into the green eyes that both comforted and tortured him. 

What he found there was something he had seen before, once, many years ago, in a dream. 

“What was that?” Harry asked, his entire body shaking, his eyes blazing fiercely. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” Snape began, practically crawling to the boy, pulling at him in hopes that he would come down to Snape’s level, but he didn’t move.

“What is it then because it seems that you somehow forgot to mention that we are soulmates? How could you keep that from me, Severus?” 

The boy was practically yelling and Snape knew that if didn’t calm him down something awful would happen to him or both of them, but no words seemed to come out. He stood up so that he was the taller of the two and tried to open his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off. 

“Tell me Snape, tell me right now!” 

Harry’s face was pale, like all the blood had drained from his beautiful features. There were tears glistening in his captivating eyes and Severus was overcome with emotion. The Harry in front of him was older, still a young man, but somehow wiser and more mature. Snape’s entire body – his very soul, if indeed he had one – was reaching out to Harry. 

“I can’t, please just trust me,” Snape pleaded, his voice quivering. 

“No, I need to know. I can’t leave here until I know. Do you love me?” Harry yelled taking a step closer towards his professor. Snape moved to back away but was met with the dungeon wall against his back. 

“Harry…” 

“I love you, isn’t that enough?”

If Snape had thought hearing those words was painful in a dream he wasn’t prepared for their weight when spoken from the Real Harry instead of Dream Harry. They were so heavy they hit him with a startling force that knocked the wind right out of him. The pain in Harry’s voice and eyes was almost too intense to look at and Snape turned his gaze to the floor. 

“Of course it’s enough. I do love you, Harry, I always have,” Snape said quietly, his words spoken to the stone ground rather than Harry.

There was a long stretch of silence until Harry closed the distance between them and grabbed both of Snape’s hands. 

“Look at me,” Harry said and Snape was struck forcefully by the familiarity of those words and, unable to stop himself, allowed for a heart-wrenching cry to be ripped from his throat and fill the room.

Harry had never seen Severus so vulnerable and distressed and found it completely unnerving. 

“No more secrets, Severus,” Harry cooed, holding the professor close and kissing every part of him he could reach. “The fact that the bond exists doesn’t change a single thing for me. If anything it just validates my love for you even more, but please, I am begging you, don’t do this to me anymore. Tell me you love me; I need it more then you know.” 

Unable to speak through his agonizing tears, Snape nodded lamely and clung to Harry with every ounce of himself that he could. They stayed that way for the rest of the night and even though it was dangerous and even though Snape knew that at any moment they could be found, he had Harry stay the night. 

And even though his dreams that night were made up of an endless, repeating reel of his death, he slept through the entire night with Harry by his side 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_June 19, 1996_

No one deserved the amount of pain that Harry Potter had experienced in only sixteen years of life. Why must he lose yet another important piece of him? 

Sirius Black was dead. 

And a part of Harry Potter died with his godfather. 

Everything had happened so quickly and things were still settling down as the entire wizarding world learned of Harry Potter’s adventure at the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately, everyone was focused on the standoff between Dumbledore and Voldemort and not recognizing that this was an emotionally distressing time for the young wizard. 

But Snape knew and all he wanted to do was find Harry and hold on forever. It was his job to protect the boy, and he did when it came to Harry’s safety, but he was unable to protect his heart. There was only so much that he could do and it never felt like it was enough. 

Harry Potter deserved more. 

But he couldn’t go to the boy. It needed to be Harry who came to him. Everyone knew that Snape hated Black, but he would never have wished him dead because he was a part of Harry’s family. He wasn’t sure if Harry would want to be alone during his time of mourning, but he would reach out to him and wait.

_I am here. Always._

That was the message that Snape had sent through their bracelets, but it had been hours and he hadn’t heard anything back. The silence was almost unbearable, but Snape forced himself to stay put and wait. 

When it was nearly midnight he felt the pleasantly familiar warmth against his cold, pale wrist. But the warmth quickly dissipated as he read the message. 

_I need time._

Time? Snape nearly cried from the irony. 

That was the very thing he didn’t have to give the boy.


	9. July 1996 - June 1997: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I had to take semi-direct quotes from the movies. I am sure you will recognize them when you see them. 
> 
> As always, let me know any feedback or suggestions. 
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

_July 31, 1996_

It was Harry Potter’s sixteenth birthday. 

It might have been Harry Potter’s last birthday.

Even though the future for Snape was completely set in stone, Harry’s wasn’t. So, one never could be sure. 

There were only two things that Snape did know. One was that he hadn’t heard a word from Harry since Sirius Black had died. 

And the second, the most disturbing, was Albus had revealed his ultimate plan for The-Boy-Who-Lived and the man who spent his life trying to protect him. 

_”You must be the one to kill me, Severus. It is the only way.”_

_He looked at Dumbledore with horror._

_“There will come a time when Harry Potter will need to be told something.”_

_“Must be told what?” Snape questioned hesitantly._

_“A part of Voldemort’s soul latched itself to the only living thing it could find; Harry. A part of Voldemort lives inside him.” Albus said cryptically._

_“So, when the time comes, the boy must die?”_

_Snape felt his world closing in and had to fight to remain conscious._

_“Yes, yes, he must die.” Dumbledore said sadly._

_“You’ve kept him alive so he could die at the proper moment?” Snape asked coldly, every part of him was begging him to shake sense and reason into Albus._

_“Don’t tell me now you’ve grown to care for the boy?”_

_Did Albus really think Severus was so heartless that he wouldn’t grow to care the boy? What Albus didn’t know was that he loved the boy more than anything and anyone. It was Snape who had protected the boy because they were bound together through all of space, time, and magic._

_“Expecto Patronum!”_

_As Snape waved his wand, the doe burst from the end, swirling around the Headmaster’s office before disappearing out the window._

_“Lily? After all this time?”_

_A promise to Lily, yes._

_Because of Lily, no._

_Only Harry, always Harry._

_“Always.”_

Nothing was the same and all Snape wanted – no, needed – was to see Harry. 

But he resisted. 

_Happy birthday, Harry. I love you._

Snape lifted his wand from the bracelet.

Another night of waiting. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _September 1, 1996_

Luna Lovegood and Harry Potter approached the gates of Hogwarts. 

Snape’s attention was on Draco until he felt the familiar tug. Looking up he saw the blood dripping from Harry’s nose onto his shirt and almost went to him, but he didn’t. 

Harry hardly even looked in his direction. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_September 8, 1996_

Snape was pacing his rooms frantically. 

Over an hour ago he had received a message from Harry through their bracelets. He said he was coming to see Severus that evening, but he hadn’t specified when. Now, it was just waiting, and the anticipation was killing him. 

What would he say to Harry? What would Harry say to him? Should he tell him that he knew he has to die? Or should he hide it? 

The sound of the door opening made Severus realize there was no more time to decide. 

Harry stood in front of him, a sadness about him he hadn’t known Harry to possessive. He wanted to go to him, but he stayed where he was. 

“Harry, I…”

“Severus, let me start.”

With a curt nod, Snape watched Harry as the young man moved to the fireplace, looking away from him. 

“I shouldn’t have disappeared like that; it wasn’t fair to you. I guess I thought that maybe you were pleased that Sirius was dead and I couldn’t stand to be around you if that was  
true.” 

“You must know that I wouldn’t have wished Black dead, Harry! I know he was all the family you had left, I would never have wanted that taken from you,” Snape tried, his fears realized. 

“I know that, Severus. I was hurting so deeply and I blamed myself for everything. I didn’t know what to do with myself and until I spoke with Dumbledore recently, I wasn’t sure I could come back to you, but I know how foolish that is.” 

Finally turning to look at Snape, he could see the guilt in Harry’s face and he reached out to him. 

“Forgive me, Severus?” 

Rushing to the young wizard, Snape swept him into his arms and held him tightly. 

“There is nothing to forgive.” 

They stood like that for a long time, the relief was blissful. 

“You should know I missed you every day,” Harry said, pulling his head up to look at Severus fully. 

“So, it wasn’t just me?” Severus joked, a small smile on his lips. Harry smirked and shook his head. 

“Now, another pressing issue we must address,” Harry said with a sigh, pulling out of Snape’s embrace. The older wizard looked puzzled, his heart stopping. Maybe Dumbledore  
had decided to tell him everything? Maybe he knew that he was only alive to die?

“I know we weren’t speaking, but you didn’t get me a birthday gift.” 

Snape didn’t say anything as his heart caught up with his mind. 

“I wished you happy birthday, Mister Potter,” Snape said menacingly. He took a step forward, as though an animal stalking his prey.

“Oh, Mister Potter is it?” Harry asked his eyebrows raising in question. “Wishing me a happy birthday doesn’t seem sufficient enough a gift from my _soulmate_ , does it Professor?” 

Snape sneered, but in jest. He felt his trousers tighten as his body relaxed into the desire that he felt when he was around Harry. 

“And what pray tell is sufficient, Potter?” 

“I think a decent shag would be satisfactory,” Harry said matter-of-factly. 

“Satisfactory, you say?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very well.” 

Harry’s eyes widen in surprise. He hadn’t expected Snape to give in that easily. Severus may have put up a bigger fight before, but he knew that their time was running out quickly, like the last grains of sand in a deadly hourglass. He didn’t know if he would ever get the chance to make love to Harry if he didn’t act now. 

Confidently, though he felt weak, Snape walked into his chambers, leaving the door open. Moments later Harry followed and stood before Snape, 

“Take your clothes off,” Severus said quietly, lovingly. 

“Will you?” Harry asked, nervousness evident in his voice. 

“Of course,” he nodded and began unbuttoning the seemingly endless buttons on his black robes. 

At first unsure and hesitant, Harry grew bolder and began to move quicker the more and more Severus took off. It was though Snape’s nakedness fueled Harry’s desire. 

When they were both naked, they took a moment to drink in the sight of one another, but then Severus just couldn’t wait any longer. 

Grabbing Harry roughly by the neck he pulled him into a crushing kiss, their erections bobbing up and down, grazing each other, forcing a growl form Severus and moan from Harry. 

Breaking their feverish kiss, Snape pushed Harry on his back onto the bed and knelt at the edge of the bed. He pulled Harry to the edge by his ankles and quickly took Harry’s erection in his hand. 

“Oh,” Harry gasped as Snape began fisting him quickly. Snape thought to himself that he had never seen something as beautiful as Harry lying there for him. 

Soon, Snape replaced his hand with his mouth and worshipped Harry’s cock. He sucked and licked, losing himself as the young wizard thrusted into his hot, wet mouth. 

“Please, Severus, I’m going to cum. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” 

Snape moaned deeply as he heard Harry beg him, but he didn’t stop sucking him. Instead he slowed his movements to focus on stretching Harry out. With one long finger he pushed inside Harry, slow and gentle. After an initial gasp of surprise, Harry adjusted to the intrusion and began moving on Snape’s slender digit. Adding two more, Snape began to finger fuck Harry and as he brushed his prostate he knew that Harry had never experienced that kind of pleasure. 

He was smiling with pride and possessiveness. 

Harry was his. 

Finally, unable to wait any longer, Snape stood up, pulled Harry’s legs up and gently pushed in, burying himself completely inside the young wizard. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, so good, so good,” Harry moaned. 

“You are amazing, Harry. So tight and so ready for me. Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

The two men moved together wildly, exchanging their love freely and loudly. Snape wanted it to last forever, but he couldn’t hold off and as he watched Harry climax on his chest, he followed quickly, spilling himself deep within Harry. 

Carefully, Snape collapsed on the bed next to Harry and pulled the man against him. He felt like he might cry knowing that he discovered a paradise soon to be lost. 

“That was perfect, Severus.” Harry smiled and chuckled, kissing Snape’s sweaty temple. 

For a while they just laid there, messy and content, but something pulled at the back of Severus’s mind. There was something familiar about the moment…

“You know, I still don’t understand,” Harry mumbled against Snape’s chest, his mouth warm and familiar. “But I am happy we got here.”

Dread sifted itself through Snape’s veins as he recognized Harry’s words. 

“Me too,” Snape agreed, voice quiet. 

“But I want more.”

It was a statement that was heavy and pregnant with unspoken dreams and expectations. It was far too serious a conversation for Snape’s sedated state. And the fact that he knew there could never be more.

As though trying to convey that he heard Harry, but wanted to leave the worrisome words for the morning, he wrapped his arms tightly around the man and gave a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, isn’t that enough?”

Snape wasn’t sure who said it. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _December 20, 1996_

Snape was sick and tired of Draco Malfoy’s ridiculous, amateur attempts at killing the Headmaster. It was exhausting. 

It didn’t help that he had to deliver a message to Harry from Dumbledore at Slughorn’s foolish Christmas party. Harry looked absolutely incredible in his dress robes and they  
would be parted for the entire night. 

Also, he noted, the Weasley girl had seemed to be taking great interest in Harry. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_April 21, 1997_

“And apparently there are these horcruxes that have to be destroyed so Voldemort can die. Did you know about it?” 

Harry looked into Snape’s dark eyes, his expression excited and full of curiosity. 

“No, I didn’t.” 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _April 22, 1997_

Harry had been successful, that amazing boy. 

Now, with Slughorn’s full memory everything would be set in motion. 

Snape knew it was over. 

It was time to part. 

He thought back to Harry losing Sirius and tried to take solace in the fact that he would have Ron and Hermione. Maybe he could even convince Harry to pursue Ginny. He knew that there were feelings there and where he would have been jealous before, he couldn’t muster anything other than gratefulness towards the Weasley girl. 

Someone had to be there for him when Severus could not. 

Of course, he would watch over him from afar.

But very soon their incredible love affair would end and all that Snape had loved was once again out of his grasp. 

What would become of Harry? 

What would become of Snape? 

What would become of them?


	10. July 1996 - June 1997: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, shoot.
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time

_May 10, 1997_

Severus Snape stood in the corner of his classroom, his back pressed into cold dungeon walls. It was the perfect view of the room, something Snape had never taken the time to appreciate. His eyes scanned the work benches, clean and cleared, the only signs of students were the lacerations in the wood, many years of clumsy potion making. The walls were lined with shelves that housed bottled and jarred bits and pieces. Snape felt his mouth smile slightly at the memory of him placing the ghastliest objects in plain view as to frighten the first year students. 

He had been cruel then. 

Time was pacing so quickly now that all Snape could do was look down the barrel of the gun, the lives of so many in the balances. He had known for a long time what was to come within the following weeks and months. There would be a time very soon where everything would be smashed and he would have to be forced to give away all the things that mattered most. 

His own life, the soul he had discovered he had, and the person who had helped him find it. 

Harry Potter. 

The lump in Severus’s throat seemed to thicken and he wasn’t sure how he was to continue on. How was he going to walk away from Harry? It didn’t feel possible, as though he would try and fail simply because it was impossible to lose the person that he lived for. 

The classroom door opened and in walked Harry. He was there begrudgingly to serve a detention. It wasn’t lost on Snape that the younger man was mildly annoyed with the potions master. It was truly poor timing that Snape had to talk to Harry during one of the last quidditch games, but he couldn’t push it off anymore. 

“I really hope that you are going to tell me that you’ve given me this detention because you plan to fuck me senseless or something,” Harry said with exasperation as he walked towards Snape. As he approached his brows pulled together in concern as he registered the look on Snape’s face. 

“You know, I hated teaching,” Snape muttered, looking past his soulmate and out at the empty classroom. “Now, I regret that I didn’t savor it more.”

“What’s happened?” Harry asked, stopping a few feet from Snape. He knew that his words were more startling to Harry then his behavior. Again, his throat tightened and he knew that this was it, this was their ending. 

“Harry, do you have feelings for Ginny Weasley?

The question threw the young man off and he twisted his features into a confused grimace. 

“Why would you even ask that, Severus?” 

“I won’t be mad, Harry, I just need to know that you will have someone there for you,” Snape answered, moving from the corner and past Harry. He couldn’t stand to look at him.

“What’s all this about? You know that I love you. There is no one else and what do you mean someone there for me? I have you.” 

Severus could hear the rising panic in Harry’s voice as he began to realize that something very serious was about to transpire. 

“After tonight we are not to see each other anymore,” Snape said as his eyes watered. 

“What? Why not? What the hell is going on, Severus?” Harry yelled, grabbing the other man’s arm, pulling him back so he was forced to look into his eyes. When he saw tears in the dark eyes a small gasp escaped. 

“Are you ending things with me? Is there someone else?” Harry whispered, his voice strained. 

“No, of course there is no one else,” Severus said with a shake of his head. He didn’t know how to explain it. He hadn’t spoken of it since he was told by Dumbledore what was to  
happen and also when he had taken the unbreakable vow with Narcissa. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Draco Malfoy is going to attempt to murder Dumbledore.” 

The words hung in the air for far too long, both men looking devastated, but for different reasons. 

“He wouldn’t let that happen,” Harry said firmly. 

“He doesn’t anticipate that Draco will succeed.” 

“Well, that’s good. I knew that cockroach was up to something evil. He’s probably already a Death Eater, isn’t he Severus?” 

“Harry, listen to me,” Severus said imploring the man to see how grave the situation really was. “Where Draco fails I must succeed.” 

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, his voice raising an octave knowing the answer. 

“I have to kill Albus Dumbledore.” 

Snape watched in horror as every emotion possible swept in waves across Harry’s face. Suddenly, the younger man raised his hands in front of him as though shielding himself from Snape, taking steps away from the man that he loved. 

“You can’t – you wouldn’t! How could you do that?” Harry screamed frantically, his eyes wide with pain and complete betrayal. Snape felt his chest be ripped open. 

“I must, Harry. Dumbledore knows what is to happen and he has commissioned me to fulfill the task if Draco cannot.” 

“No! Dumbledore would never agree to such a thing,” Harry continued to scream, now with tears streaming down his face. “He wouldn’t do that to you…” 

“I want you to listen to me because I am putting us both at incredible risk by sharing any of this with you. I don’t want to threaten you, Harry, but if you do not calm down and let me explain I will be forced to obliviate you.” Snape said sternly, ignoring his aching heart.

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

“I would do it in a heartbeat if I thought it would protect you. Imagine how painful it would be for you if I hadn’t told you and instead just ended things. Add that pain with the eventual knowledge that I killed Dumbledore, the hurt and betrayal you are feeling right now wouldn’t even be comparable to the pain you would feel then. Do you want that for yourself?” Snape asked, hating himself for using Harry’s emotions against him. “Would you want that for me?” 

The last question was like ice trickling through Harry’s veins. Snape knew that it was a low blow, but he knew that Harry’s unconditional love for him would force him stop to reconsider. 

“Alright, I’ll listen, but I need to sit down.” Harry agreed, walking straight into Snape’s private rooms. 

For a long time, Severus didn’t follow, the pain almost crippling. Eventually, he mustered his courage and went in after Harry. 

He found the young man with a tumbler of Firewhiskey, his eyes focused on the flames in the fireplace. Snape took a moment to observe the man and tried to register everything he saw to memory. He knew they would never be here together again. 

“I want the entire truth.”

Snape nodded though Harry couldn’t see it and launched into recounting the events leading up to that horrible night. 

After what felt like hours, Snape took one last breath and finished his story. 

“When Dumbledore destroyed the horrcrux ring it ended up being cursed. The reason his hand is so crippled is because he is dying. He should have been dead months ago, but I have been putting of the curse as well as I can. He wants it this way, Harry. He thinks that he can save Draco’s soul from being torn apart by murdering him and he also knows that he can trust that I will follow through. Especially, since I have made the unbreakable vow to protect Draco. No one is to know, but I couldn’t murder Albus and have you hate me for something that I absolutely never wanted.” 

There was a long silence as Harry absorbed Severus’s words. 

“And what about your soul?” 

The question took Severus aback, a memory seeping through his mind as he remembered when he had asked Dumbledore the same question. 

“Harry, there was a time when I wondered if I had a soul at all. I did deplorable things and I can’t take any of that back. When I learned about you, learned that someday you would be brought into the world and there was a chance that we would one day be together, it acted as the strongest magic I have ever known. Much like your mother’s love protecting you from Voldemort that night, your love made me realize I had a soul and it made it whole again. Killing Albus will be one of the hardest thing I have ever done, but I know that as long as you are safe – as long as you’re alive – my soul can never be torn apart again.” 

Severus had moved to the couch and by the time he was finished with his speech he had pulled Harry into his lap. They sat there looking at one another, touching and comforted by the other’s presence.

But their proximity wasn’t enough to calm Harry. 

“No! Absolutely not! I will not let this happen.”

Severus looked sadly at Harry as he yelled and cried in front of the older man. His hands were outstretched and he was silently begging Harry to stop crying and instead let Snape hold him. 

“It’s not up to you, it’s not even up to me.”

“You can say no,” Harry pleaded, his hands running through his dark hair wildly. “He can’t make you do this, Severus. He can’t do this to me!”

Severus stepped towards the younger man and tugged him into his embrace. For a moment Harry resisted, trying to break free, but then he stopped, giving up and instead collapsed into Snape’s safe arms. 

“I can’t lose you or him. Haven’t I lost enough?” Harry cried, his face buried in Snape’s shoulder. 

“You don’t deserve this, no one does, but it has to be this way. It’s the only way that Voldemort can be defeated. I know it’s hard for you to see past the pain you’re feeling, but this is for the best, Harry.” Snape whispered as he rested his cheek on the top of Harry’s head. 

“But I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

The anguish that Snape felt was unimaginable. Was it even humanly possible to experience the grief that was choking them both? Maybe if they hadn’t been soulmates? Maybe if Snape had never discovered their bond and had never fated himself to Harry? Maybe if James Potter had been attracted to Snape instead of Lily…

There were far too many maybes. 

“When we part tonight go to the Weasley girl. I know how much she cares for you and I know that you have a soft spot for her. Find solace in her and in Ron and Hermione. Things  
are going to become more and more complicated and I foresee a time in the future where you will doubt my love for you and in turn it will make you doubt your love for me. You must know though, you must think of this moment, and know that there will never be anyone who will love you as I do, Harry.” 

Harry’s tears had slowed, but he still remained buried in Severus’s arms. For a moment he didn’t answer, but then he looked up and studied the face of the man he loved.

“Will you make love to me?” 

“Yes, of course.” Snape answered without hesitation and bent down to trap Harry’s lips with his. For several heartbeats they stayed standing there, kissing each other, trying to commit every touch and sensation to memory. 

It would be the last time. 

Harry took Snape’s hand and pulled him in the bedroom. Silently they undressed, never breaking eye contact. Harry crawled onto the bed and sprawled himself out, staring up at Snape as he covered the younger man’s body. 

“I want it slow,” Harry whispered, his eyes bright and full of sadness. “I want it to last as long as possible.” 

Snape only nodded, dropping his mouth the Harry’s. He moved his mouth across every part of Harry that he could reach and reveled in the incredible gasps and moans coming from the young man. They did this for a long time, trying to make their last night together the sweetest. 

As Snape’s fingers pushed in and out of Harry and he looked down and was in awe at him. How was it possible that someone could make someone else feel so complete? It was a kind of love that was only for fairytales and myths, it was supposed to be unobtainable. Yet there they were, connected so completely that there was no way to tell where one ended and the other started. Snape knew that only people bonded to someone could ever experience the incredible stability and comfort that comes from knowing without a doubt that there is in fact a purpose in life. 

Harry was his purpose. He always had been. 

Lifting Harry’s legs so that they rested over Severus’s shoulders, he pushed himself fully inside of Harry. Gasping in unison, the pair stopped and were completely still for a moment as they basked in the feeling of being so intimately bound. 

“I love you, Severus. No matter what.” 

Harry gasped the words, tears streaming from his eyes like rivers that were endless. 

“I have always loved you and I will love you even when I’m gone. Always.” 

Snape said the words in a quivering voice and then he too began crying. 

They moved together, perfectly in sync, each feeding off the others desire until they weren’t men anymore. Instead they were two burning souls that were so hot they were scorching everything they touched. Their love was a fire so strong it was almost painful, but that didn’t stop them. 

Harry came first, spilling over his chest as he cried out for Severus. 

Snape seeing the man he loved undone and completely open to him was his undoing and he buried himself as deeply as he could in Harry and came violently. 

And that was it. 

They stayed like that for as long as Severus would allow and then he forced them to get dressed and say their goodbyes. 

“Please let me stay,” Harry pleaded, but Severus shook his head firmly. 

“No. If you don’t go now I won’t have the strength to send you away later.” 

They stood together, staring at each other so intensely Snape wondered if they could see into each other’s very souls, but all too quickly Harry broke the connection. He reached up, kissed Severus soundly, but only quickly and then turned and left. 

On one side of the door a man collapsed on the floor, inconsolable, and more alone then he could remember. 

The man on the other side walked slowly away as he felt the rope lengthening until he was so far away he couldn’t feel it anymore. 

But he set himself straight, masked his emotions. 

There was a girl he needed to find. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_June 28, 1997_

Slow motion. 

That was the only way to explain it. 

“Severus, please.” 

There was so many things happening within him as he registered Albus Dumbledore’s last words, knowing that the man he loved was standing below, watching him do something that he could never take back. 

But there was no more time. 

“Avada Kedavra!” 

And then Albus was falling.

And Albus was dead. 

And they were sweeping through the castle.

And they were heading to the Forbidden Forest. 

And Harry was following, his rage and pain blinding him to his love.

And they were fighting.

And then he was leaving behind the only thing that ever mattered. 

Harry Potter.


	11. July 1997-May 1998: Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! This chapter is short, but it needed to be. There will be only two more chapters after this one. I really hope everyone has enjoyed it so far. It's been wonderful to share this story with each one of you. 
> 
> Leave your comments below! 
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

_July 19, 1997_

Everything was falling apart. 

Or maybe it was falling into place? 

Severus Snape was walking quickly away from Malfoy Manor as Voldemort and the other Death Eaters continued their meeting. He had given his valuable information and knew that because of him someone could die while taking Harry from his relatives to The Burrow. 

It could very well be Harry himself. 

Snape had experienced times of uncontrollable self-loathing in his lifetime, but what he felt every moment of every day since he had killed Albus and lost Harry was simply unbelievable. He spent most of his time doing the devil’s work and the rest of his time wishing he were dead. 

But he continued to live.

For now. 

Snape knew that his life was slowly dwindling away. Soon there would come a time when he would have to face death and accept that he had done all he could do to save Harry Potter. 

But it would never be enough. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_July 27, 1997_

Poor Mad-Eye Moody. 

Poor Hedwig. 

Poor Harry. 

How anxious Snape was to reach the end. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_September 1, 1997_

The newly instated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood and watched the students entering the castle. It was the first day of the new term and he felt his heavy heart in his chest. 

There was no Harry returning to him this year. 

Snape had tried to reach Harry through their bracelets, but there had been no response. He knew that more than likely Harry hated him. And if Harry hated him then Snape hoped that hate would fuel him even more to succeed in his pursuit to destroy the Dark Lord. 

He wanted to go on that journey with Harry so desperately, but instead he could only watch from afar. 

He knew the trio was hiding out at Grimmauld Place. He knew they were planning something reckless and stupid. 

And he knew that his job as protector was not finished just yet. 

However, his job as lover had ended when Albus Dumbledore’s heart stopped beating. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_September 2, 1997_

Severus wasn’t breathing as he stared, wide eyed, in the early morning light. 

_We are going to the Ministry. Protect us, Severus_

That was the message that had warmed his bracelet and woken him up with a start. 

Of course he would do his best to protect them. He would do anything to ensure Harry’s survival. 

Until it was time for the boy to die. 

_Always_

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_December 24, 1997_

Harry and Hermione stood silently at the foot of the Potter’s grave. Severus stood in the shadows, watching just as quietly. 

The tears he had cried had already froze to his face. 

Poor Lily.

Poor James. 

Poor Harry. 

And poor Hermione. Snape knew what it was like to watch the person you love most in the world walk away. But he had hope for Ron and Hermione. The couple deserved as much happiness and safety as Harry did. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_December 26, 1997_

Harry Potter didn’t know that Snape’s patronus was a doe.

Instead, he followed it blindly knowing that it had once been his mother’s. 

There was the sword. There was Ron returning. 

There was a horcrux being destroyed. 

And there was Snape. 

Sitting in his predecessor’s chair feeling colder and more frightened than ever before. 

It wouldn’t be long now. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _May 1, 1998_

Snape was taking in deep, desperate gulps of air as he stood against the wall of the Headmaster’s office. 

It was happening. 

Harry had contacted Snape informing him of the trio’s arrival. There was nothing left to do except wait to be summoned, wait to give Harry the memories, and wait to die. 

_I love you, Harry. I love you so much. Be safe_

Those were the words he had sent spiraling through the distance to Harry’s bracelet knowing that it might be the last chance for him to say those words. 

_Severus, you will live. And I will live. And we will be together_

Snape cried and cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, clinging to Harry’s foolish optimism, allowing himself to dream of a world where they might actually survive. 

But somethings aren’t meant to be.


	12. July 1997-May 1998: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, two chapters in one night! 
> 
> One more to go! 
> 
> You will notice that almost all of the dialog is taken directly from the movie. However, I am sure you will read it with different glasses knowing the history between our two characters. 
> 
> It was extremely sad to write this chapter and I am sorry for all the broken hearts, but it had to happen. 
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

_May 2, 1998_

Harry Potter was close. Severus could feel the bond strengthening and for the first time in almost a year the two wizards were within feeling distance. In the last moments of Severus Snape’s life, he silently reveled in the miracle of a magical love as incredible as his and Harry’s. 

Outside the battle raged on, dark against light, adult against child, death against life. On the inside Lord Voldemort stood before Snape, his back turned to the potions master, Nagini wrapped around her master’s feet. Severus wanted to run, but he knew it had to be this way.

It was like déjà vu, everything surrounding the wizards was just as it had been in the nightmares of Severus Snape. The same chill of the night, the same booms from curses being screamed in the distance, and the emptiness in Voldemort’s serpent eyes. 

Severus Snape was about to die.

“The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner.”

As Voldemort said these words he moved closer to Severus, his face set in cold determination. Swallowing hard, Snape refused to break eye contact with the monster before him, but he silently begged for a painless death. Even though he knew he didn’t deserve any kindness in life or death, he wanted it to be over as quickly as possible. 

It wasn’t the physical pain – it was everything else. 

“You killed Dumbledore, Severus. While you live the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine. You’ve been a good and faithful servant, Severus, but only I can live forever.”

The words sunk in and Snape almost laughed. It was irrefutable that Lord Voldemort was a powerful wizard, but power and fear can blind anyone. 

Snape was not the true master of the Elder Wand…

It was just as well that he would die for the wrong reasons. Instead of dying due to discovery or punishment for his many committed atrocities, he was to by struck down by a wand whose master was the love of his life. 

_Harry James Potter_

There was still so much that hadn’t been said or done. 

But Snape wouldn’t break eye contact with the demon who was taking away his life and would eventually take the life of Harry.

“My lord…?” 

It was spoken as a question even though Snape knew the answer.

With one last look between master and servant, Voldemort pulled his wand through the air like a knife and Snape felt his neck split open. 

He was choking on his own blood as he fell back against the cold stone ground. This he remembered perfectly. 

“Nagini, kill!” 

With six deadly lunges, the snake successfully sunk her fangs into the blood soaked neck of Severus Snape. The venom slipped quickly into the wizard’s bloodstream and began its assault on everything that was left. 

Time was beginning to slow down. 

Voldemort apparated and Snape wondered idly if maybe Harry wasn’t as close as he had thought, but then the trio came through the door. 

Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway with confused looks as they watched their friend rush frantically to the older man’s side. 

“No, no, no!” 

Harry reached his hand out, pressing against Snape’s wounded neck in vain, attempting to stop the bleeding. 

Yes, this was how it happened in the dreams. 

But there was just so much left to say and do

_“There will come a time when Harry Potter will need to be told something.”_

Dumbledore’s words came back to Snape. 

Tears that were actually memories began to seep from Snape’s black eyes as he looked into the endless green eyes of his soulmate. 

“Take them, take them, please,” Severus pleaded, his voice coming out as a gurgle, his words obscured by blood. 

“Give me something, a flask, anything!” Harry yelled to Hermione who jumped into action. Snape felt a pang of regret as he wished he had the chance to tell her, that yes, she truly was the cleverest witch of her age.

“Take them to the pensieve.” 

Severus said this as clearly as possible as Harry stoppered the only lasting thing that Snape could offer him. The boy nodded his head in agreement, but there were tears now. Harry was still holding Severus’s neck and he had lifted the man’s head into his lap, hoping against all hope. 

“Don’t you dare die, Snape!” Harry cried, leaning down closer, pressing his lips firmly to Snape’s forehead. 

Suddenly, Snape felt an intrusion in his mind and realized that Harry had silently slipped into his dying conscious. 

The boy was rummaging around, taking everything that was there, seeking out every moment of Snape’s life. He wanted to preserve it in his mind, he wanted to gather all the memories and things that made up the man he loved so that he would never be truly lost. It was unfathomable to Harry that this was happening. 

Severus Snape was not just a man who saved his life.

Severus Snape _was_ his life. 

And then it grew very quiet within Snape. 

A peace settled.

With one last devoted glance Snape let out his breath.

“Look at me…” 

Harry didn’t simply look at Snape. 

He saw him.

_Always_


	13. The After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks. 
> 
> I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters and simply just borrow them from time to time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment on suggestions of what pairing I should write next!

_May 9, 1998_

Harry Potter stood apart from the others. It was too difficult to stand alongside those who had lost a loved one because of him. How was everyone so forgiving? He knew that the universe didn’t revolve around him, but for the last seventeen years it had felt that way. 

Instead, Harry walked away from the memorial ceremony, unconcerned by the looks he was receiving. For the first time in his life Harry was making all the decisions for himself and he was deciding to walk away. 

The grounds of Hogwarts were still scarred and maimed, the evidence of an epic battle still on display for the whole world to see. The castle was broken and abused, trying to heal itself with magic, but finding the process far more difficult than anticipated. 

After some time, but no time at all, Harry found himself staring in the distance at the Shrieking Shake. Had it really only been a week ago since Severus had died? It felt much longer than that to Harry. The days dragged on endlessly, every moment torturous and painful. 

The bond had been severed. 

Harry found himself constantly tugging on the rope that had once been there. He would pull at it as hard as possible, hoping that eventually there would be a tug back.

But Severus was dead. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_May 25, 1998_

“Harry, the accusations you are making are very serious. Nothing good can come from revisiting Dumbledore’s death.” 

Kingsley Shaklebolt sat behind his desk staring at Harry Potter with a look of trepidation. The young hero had suggested that Albus had known about his murder and that Severus  
Snape was the true hero, not the murderer he was perceived to be. 

“I agree that Dumbledore’s death was tragic and the wizarding world will need a lot of time to heal from his loss, but to allow Snape to die a villain is an injustice. Albus trusted and loved Severus as his own son and would never stand for this kind of mistreatment.” 

Harry’s voice rose higher and higher with each word until he was practically screaming. The pain was agonizing and there was no one to tell. 

That person had died. 

“Even if what you say is true, where is the proof? Without concrete evidence no jury will revoke their sentencing,” Shaklebolt said with a stern look. He couldn’t understand Harry’s behavior, but listening to the young man was the least he could for him. 

Reaching into his pocket, Harry produced a vial full of swirling, ghostly memories. Placing it on the Minster of Magic’s desk, he stared bullets into the older man. 

“This is all the evidence you will ever need.” 

With those words, Harry rose and left the office. He swallowed thickly as he worked his way through the ministry. It seemed that he could go nowhere without being recognized and stopped, but today no one spoke to him. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes?

Of course, Harry had removed all memories of his relationship with Snape, but it wasn’t because it was a nasty secret. 

It was because it had been _their_ secret and Harry wasn’t ready to share that with anyone. 

Maybe he never would. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_January 9, 2000_

It was Severus Snape’s birthday. 

He would have been forty. 

Harry didn’t seem capable to stem his tears. 

“Do you, Harry James Potter, take Ginerva Molly Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife?” 

Harry’s vision was blurred with tears as he stared at the woman he was about to marry. 

Dear God, the pain was unbearable. 

“I do.” 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_September 29, 2005_

“He looks more like you, don’t you think?” 

Ginny and Harry Potter were sitting together at St. Mungo’s. Their second son had just been born. 

“I think he looks a bit like my father,” Harry said quietly, looking down at the precious child. He had always wanted a family and now he had one of his own. 

There was just one thing missing…

“What should we call him? I like Arthur or Albus.” Ginny mused quietly, running a finger gently over the sleeping baby’s forehead. 

“We should name him Severus.” 

Ginny looked up with a start. Harry himself was surprised he had said it, but he didn’t regret it. 

“I’m not sure that would be appropriate.” 

Harry nodded in agreement, but looked away as tears filled his eyes. No matter how many times he told the world the truth, no one would listen. Snape was the hero, not him. 

“What about Albus Severus Potter?” Ginny suggested, recognizing the hurt and sadness in her husband. 

“That’ll be fine,” Harry agreed. 

“Harry…”

The way Ginny said his name made Harry’s body shiver. Someone had once said his name that way before. 

“It’s okay, Gin. I think it’s a wonderful name.” 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

 _September 1, 2017_

Harry and Ginny stood with Lily, waving as the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station. 

His little boy was going to his first year at Hogwarts and Harry was full of happiness and excitement for his middle child. 

Soon, Lily would go away too. 

Almost twenty years had passed, but the pain lingered. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_October 27, 2025_

_”No, no, no!”_

_Harry’s jeans and hands were soaked in Severus’s blood, but still Harry pleaded with him to live. They were on the ground as Harry held the dying man close._

_Harry knew this moment very well._

_It haunted him._

_“Don’t you dare die, Snape!”_

_He heard himself yell this, but knew it was pointless. The incredible black eyes he loved and trusted were burning holes in him and he had so much to say and so much to do._

_“Look at me…”_

“Harry! Wake up, Harry!” 

With a jump Harry sat up in bed gasping for air. He looked at his wife who was watching him from her side of the bed. 

This was just another average night. 

“You always call for him in your sleep,” Ginny said sadly. “He would have forgiven you Harry. He was a good man. You can let him go.” 

Ginny, positive, optimistic Ginny. The one person in the world who could patch up the hole in Harry’s world and yet she remained naïve to the truth. 

“Yeah, I know.” Harry muttered. 

Standing from the bed, Harry walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. 

It had been twenty-six years, but Severus was still right there. 

_Look at me…_

Those weren’t the right last words. 

Harry should have said he loved him. 

He should have begged him to say it back. 

But he hadn’t. 

And just like that the bond was gone. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

_January 9, 2056_

Harry Potter’s knees ached and his breath was labored as he settled on the ground at the foot of Severus Snape’s grave. 

It was Severus’s ninty-sixth birthday. 

“Merlin, Severus, we are two old men.” Harry joked to no one in particular. 

It was unrelentingly cold and Harry casted a warming charm as he sat silently. The snow was falling and it was quiet. No one else was around and Harry relished in the moment of privacy between him and his soulmate. 

“Why does it still hurt, Severus?” Harry asked quietly, his voice gravelly and aged. Tears welled in his eyes and seeped out, catching in his wrinkles and laugh lines. 

“When will the suffering end?” 

For a moment he waited for a response, thinking that maybe this would be the moment that the sky would open up and he would hear Severus’s voice again. 

But all remained silent. 

Shaking with quiet sobs, twisting a silver bracelet around his bony wrist, remembering a time when the warmth of it was a sign that his lover was there, Harry waited. 

He just wanted to die. 

But it wasn’t time yet. 

He was The-Boy-Who-Lived who had lived again and now wanted to stop living. 

And yet he lived on. 

After a considerable amount of time, Harry rose shakily to his feet and gave one last longing look at the cold marble headstone. 

“Severus you are so loved. I love you Severus, be safe…”

He repeated the same words that had been spoken to him so many times before hoping that they would give warmth to the man he loved, wherever he might be. 

_Always, Harry. Always._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment on suggestions of what pairing I should write next!


End file.
